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 Angola and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Oneida to the grime 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
Talk Talk,
DJ Style,
Hot Snakes,
T. Rex,
Oblivians,
Carl Craig,
Arcadia,
Public Enemy,
Minutemen,
Grauzone,
Rotary Connection,
Eden Ahbez,
John Holt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Slick Rick,
Sällskapet,
Thompson Twins,
The Cure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unrelated Segments,
Dennis Brown,
Animal Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
Howard Jones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Smog,
Japan,
Janne Schatter,
Goldenarms,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
Rod Modell,
Fear,
The Gladiators,
Derrick Morgan,
Idris Muhammad,
Dead Boys,
Bang On A Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ornette Coleman,
Lower 48,
Banda Bassotti,
The Saints,
Jacques Brel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crime,
The Barracudas,
Arthur Verocai,
Hardrive,
The Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.