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 Indonesia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Second Layer to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Faraquet,
Nas,
Quadrant,
Skarface,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cameo,
Joe Finger,
Cymande,
Average White Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Babytalk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Howard Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
Althea and Donna,
Motorama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken,
Pylon,
Buzzcocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bill Wells,
Blancmange,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Germs,
Underground Resistance,
The Pop Group,
Oblivians,
X-101,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tom Boy,
Donald Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
The Moleskins,
Freddie Wadling,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
Parry Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Velvet Underground,
Minnie Riperton,
Siglo XX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.