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 Gambia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 Sonic Youth to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Newcleus,
The Selecter,
World's Most,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Count Five,
Ludus,
A Certain Ratio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Sherman,
The Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
the Association,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Wake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blancmange,
Deepchord,
MC5,
The Grass Roots,
Basic Channel,
Sam Rivers,
Black Sheep,
Marine Girls,
The Remains,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
Monolake,
Royal Trux,
Metal Thangz,
kango's stein massive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
Joyce Sims,
T. Rex,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Misunderstood,
The Toasters,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Masters at Work,
Gregory Isaacs,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
Thompson Twins,
Harmonia,
the Bar-Kays,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sound,
The Cramps,
Roxette,
Alton Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.