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 Laos and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Graham Central Station to the jazz 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Radio Birdman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terry Callier,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Monolake,
The Smoke,
Bootsy Collins,
Crooked Eye,
Brothers Johnson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Terrestrial Tones,
AZ,
Arab on Radar,
Whodini,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barry Ungar,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Near,
The Wake,
Black Bananas,
Ultimate Spinach,
MC5,
The Slackers,
Slave,
The Fugs,
Masters at Work,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Darondo,
John Coltrane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
Brand Nubian,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Finger,
Grauzone,
Delon & Dalcan,
Erasure,
June of 44,
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Barracudas,
Blake Baxter,
Fad Gadget,
F. McDonald,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Reed,
Con Funk Shun,
Roxette,
Make Up,
The Black Dice,
Rites of Spring,
Spoonie Gee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
Scan 7,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.