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 Croatia and from New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stooges to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Lindisfarne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vladislav Delay,
Cymande,
Spandau Ballet,
Blancmange,
Echospace,
Monolake,
The Real Kids,
Pussy Galore,
Ultravox,
Ronan,
Nick Fraelich,
U.S. Maple,
Godley & Creme,
D'Angelo,
Suburban Knight,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Christie,
Bang On A Can,
Pagans,
Bobby Sherman,
Ten City,
Eden Ahbez,
Arcadia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeru the Damaja,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
The Remains,
The Mojo Men,
Scrapy,
Gong,
The Slits,
Frankie Knuckles,
Symarip,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ossler,
Sarah Menescal,
Aswad,
Mars,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oneida,
Siglo XX,
Aural Exciters,
Al Stewart,
Fad Gadget,
Brand Nubian,
Con Funk Shun,
David McCallum,
Accadde A,
Dual Sessions,
The Buckinghams,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.