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 Dominican Republic and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cymande to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nils Olav,
The Searchers,
Rufus Thomas,
Soulsonic Force,
Jandek,
Pussy Galore,
The Residents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aswad,
Stetsasonic,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Outsiders,
X-Ray Spex,
Sparks,
Darondo,
John Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
Television,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
Subhumans,
Deakin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soul II Soul,
Sonny Sharrock,
R.M.O.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Moon,
Nas,
The Litter,
The Invisible,
The Blues Magoos,
Oneida,
A Certain Ratio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Smoke,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Seeds,
Newcleus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman,
June of 44,
The Fall,
Robert Görl,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.