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 Tonga and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lucky Dragons to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tubeway Army,
Lungfish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
Tommy Roe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hoover,
New Order,
Suicide,
A Flock of Seagulls,
MC5,
The Five Americans,
The Misunderstood,
Joe Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül II,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
The Monochrome Set,
The Standells,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
The Gladiators,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cowsills,
The Leaves,
The Evens,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Con Funk Shun,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dawn Penn,
T.S.O.L.,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-101,
Cymande,
The Blackbyrds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radiopuhelimet,
Derrick Morgan,
Alton Ellis,
Junior Murvin,
Laurel Aitken,
the Slits,
Bauhaus,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.