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 Zambia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
The Walker Brothers,
Surgeon,
Ultra Naté,
Frankie Knuckles,
Average White Band,
Franke,
Negative Approach,
New Age Steppers,
Tears for Fears,
Vainqueur,
Cluster,
Henry Cow,
The Evens,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Trojans,
Eric Dolphy,
Sandy B,
The Fire Engines,
Gichy Dan,
Dawn Penn,
Marine Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Christie,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
CMW,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Roger Hodgson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
The Durutti Column,
Little Man,
Gregory Isaacs,
R.M.O.,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Skatalites,
Harmonia,
Urselle,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faust,
Subhumans,
The J.B.'s,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül II,
Silicon Teens,
Smog,
Pantaleimon,
New York Dolls,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.