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 Mauritania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Misunderstood to the punk 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New Age Steppers,
Brick,
PIL,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Sällskapet,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn,
Sex Pistols,
Easy Going,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pierre Henry,
Ralphi Rosario,
DNA,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
Quadrant,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Babytalk,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scratch Acid,
Neu!,
48th St. Collective,
Mars,
Dead Boys,
Hashim,
The Techniques,
Matthew Bourne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fela Kuti,
Q65,
Maurizio,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry's Kids,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
Bill Wells,
Kerri Chandler,
Bluetip,
Janne Schatter,
Marmalade,
Urselle,
Eden Ahbez,
Minnie Riperton,
Juan Atkins,
Oneida,
Ossler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-101,
Sexual Harrassment,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
Pantaleimon,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.