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 Lesotho and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eden Ahbez to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy Collins,
Arthur Verocai,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rosa Yemen,
Roxy Music,
Gichy Dan,
Silicon Teens,
X-102,
Junior Murvin,
Andrew Hill,
Joyce Sims,
the Bar-Kays,
The Durutti Column,
Gang of Four,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cal Tjader,
Yaz,
Echospace,
Soft Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Basic Channel,
Moss Icon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Germs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Surgeon,
Unwound,
The Names,
Sparks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
This Heat,
Fad Gadget,
Scrapy,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Godley & Creme,
The Music Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Niagra,
Idris Muhammad,
Erykah Badu,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Ten City,
Althea and Donna,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Starr,
Tubeway Army,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Black Dice,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.