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 Malaysia and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crooked Eye,
T.S.O.L.,
June Days,
Dennis Brown,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quadrant,
Metal Thangz,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
Tommy Roe,
Davy DMX,
Donny Hathaway,
The Five Americans,
Babytalk,
Robert Hood,
Wire,
John Coltrane,
Black Moon,
The Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter & Gordon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thompson Twins,
Amon Düül II,
Cymande,
Supertramp,
Organ,
Pantytec,
KRS-One,
Todd Terry,
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Judy Mowatt,
Mo-Dettes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
Animal Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scott Walker,
Don Cherry,
Stiv Bators,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.