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 Philippines and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quando Quango,
Popol Vuh,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Funky Four + One,
Al Stewart,
The Last Poets,
Section 25,
Eric Copeland,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Panda Bear,
Kaleidoscope,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
Nirvana,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pop Group,
Skriet,
The Star Department,
In Retrospect,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Womack,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
Symarip,
Quantec,
Unrelated Segments,
Gabor Szabo,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fortunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roxy Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alphaville,
Rapeman,
The J.B.'s,
Black Flag,
Kerri Chandler,
Tim Buckley,
the Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
Cecil Taylor,
Donald Byrd,
Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rotary Connection,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sister Nancy,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.