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 Qatar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the punk 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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Scion,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
Funkadelic,
Accadde A,
The Busters,
Agent Orange,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Green,
Model 500,
Quando Quango,
Blancmange,
Matthew Bourne,
Lalann,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Happenings,
Oblivians,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cymande,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
ABC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Animal Collective,
EPMD,
The Grass Roots,
Sugar Minott,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Anthony Braxton,
This Heat,
Cameo,
Bobby Sherman,
X-101,
Dark Day,
The Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Arthur Verocai,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masters at Work,
Groovy Waters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Camberwell Now,
Barry Ungar,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Music Machine,
Bad Manners,
The Beau Brummels,
The Pop Group,
Pussy Galore,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
Audionom,
Connie Case,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Human League,
Guru Guru,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yellowson,
MDC,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.