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 Cyprus and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Jacob Miller,
La Düsseldorf,
Massinfluence,
Marine Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funkadelic,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Ten City,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
Crooked Eye,
Little Man,
Yaz,
Con Funk Shun,
Whodini,
Ohio Players,
Faraquet,
The Cure,
Supertramp,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
Maleditus Sound,
Warsaw,
the Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Radiohead,
Marmalade,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
James White and The Blacks,
Eddi Front,
This Heat,
Soft Machine,
Jacques Brel,
Hardrive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aloha Tigers,
Lungfish,
L. Decosne,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Skaos,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
Janne Schatter,
Easy Going,
Joensuu 1685,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Prunes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.