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 Panama and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fania All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Jacques Brel,
John Cale,
Hardrive,
James White and The Blacks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wire,
Bill Near,
Guru Guru,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soft Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Joensuu 1685,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Erykah Badu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ohio Players,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Byron Stingily,
Terry Callier,
Audionom,
Massinfluence,
The Fall,
Black Pus,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
Joe Smooth,
D'Angelo,
Danielle Patucci,
The Music Machine,
Alison Limerick,
The Monochrome Set,
Kaleidoscope,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Bourne,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Nico,
Sugar Minott,
Depeche Mode,
The Real Kids,
The Young Rascals,
X-Ray Spex,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Eve St. Jones,
B.T. Express,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Residents,
Hashim,
Minor Threat,
Zero Boys,
Scientists,
Warren Ellis,
Todd Terry,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.