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 Thailand and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 LL Cool J to the rock 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultra Naté,
Echospace,
Brand Nubian,
The American Breed,
Animal Collective,
Subhumans,
Scion,
Blossom Toes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oblivians,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Loose Ends,
Tears for Fears,
Magazine,
The Vogues,
Vladislav Delay,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Swell Maps,
The New Christs,
Eric Dolphy,
Crash Course in Science,
James Chance & The Contortions,
New York Dolls,
Lou Christie,
the Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jesper Dahlback,
OOIOO,
L. Decosne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
PIL,
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
Cybotron,
a-ha,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Juan Atkins,
Wings,
Cymande,
Average White Band,
Stereo Dub,
The Doors,
Marvin Gaye,
Intrusion,
Terry Callier,
Agitation Free,
Outsiders,
The Tremeloes,
Public Enemy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Yaz,
Excepter,
John Foxx,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.