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 Lesotho and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Near,
Junior Murvin,
Freddie Wadling,
MDC,
Pussy Galore,
Joyce Sims,
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Camouflage,
Marshall Jefferson,
L. Decosne,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Slackers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tres Demented,
Model 500,
The Happenings,
Steve Hackett,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smoke,
Darondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Kinks,
Absolute Body Control,
Moby Grape,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
Scan 7,
U.S. Maple,
Second Layer,
Fluxion,
The Searchers,
Funky Four + One,
The Toasters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Five Americans,
DJ Style,
Malaria!,
Negative Approach,
T. Rex,
Yaz,
Eden Ahbez,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Move,
ABBA,
Dual Sessions,
June of 44,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.