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 Namibia and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Tubeway Army to the rap 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultra Naté,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Porter Ricks,
Cymande,
Camberwell Now,
Sound Behaviour,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shuggie Otis,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Public Enemy,
Echospace,
Magazine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barry Ungar,
John Holt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxy Music,
Underground Resistance,
Harry Pussy,
Tears for Fears,
The Searchers,
Blancmange,
AZ,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Glenn Branca,
Los Fastidios,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pretty Things,
Hot Snakes,
Minnie Riperton,
Lungfish,
Stiv Bators,
Aural Exciters,
The Leaves,
Nik Kershaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Wolf Eyes,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quando Quango,
Audionom,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yaz,
The Vogues,
Tropical Tobacco,
H. Thieme,
Quadrant,
UT,
48th St. Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.