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 Lithuania and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Ludus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Unrelated Segments,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hot Snakes,
Marine Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Agent Orange,
Mr. Review,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Grass Roots,
Prince Buster,
Clear Light,
Malaria!,
Accadde A,
The Modern Lovers,
Excepter,
Roger Hodgson,
The Names,
Flash Fearless,
Soulsonic Force,
Animal Collective,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joey Negro,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris & Cosey,
Radio Birdman,
Theoretical Girls,
Terry Callier,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Letta Mbulu,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Residents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Human League,
Nas,
Barbara Tucker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ituana,
Moby Grape,
The Real Kids,
Banda Bassotti,
OOIOO,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Todd Terry,
Davy DMX,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Red Krayola,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
China Crisis,
Inner City,
Anakelly,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.