Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Namibia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swans,
LL Cool J,
Ludus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Patti Smith,
Ten City,
Can,
Groovy Waters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thee Headcoats,
Wings,
The Mummies,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
Ken Boothe,
Harmonia,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
Brand Nubian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aural Exciters,
Model 500,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
Piero Umiliani,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
Royal Trux,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed,
Thompson Twins,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod,
Colin Newman,
Derrick Morgan,
The Skatalites,
Scratch Acid,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
Porter Ricks,
Soul II Soul,
Unwound,
Television,
Moby Grape,
Niagra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jandek,
Technova,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pagans,
The Motions,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.