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 Indonesia and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the rap 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Massinfluence,
Donald Byrd,
The Motions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lucky Dragons,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Sarah Menescal,
Alice Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
Juan Atkins,
the Sonics,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
June Days,
the Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Star Department,
Jawbox,
Absolute Body Control,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Wells,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fad Gadget,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dead C,
Connie Case,
Kaleidoscope,
Ice-T,
Isaac Hayes,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
Fat Boys,
Tres Demented,
X-101,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Panda Bear,
the Fania All-Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
The Knickerbockers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harpers Bizarre,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Letta Mbulu,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Starr,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.