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 Peru and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 Sun Ra 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Don Cherry,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jacob Miller,
Lyres,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brand Nubian,
Cybotron,
Section 25,
Lakeside,
Khruangbin,
Black Sheep,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
Ludus,
Hoover,
Fat Boys,
New York Dolls,
Spandau Ballet,
R.M.O.,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABC,
June Days,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
Black Moon,
Ituana,
Nas,
Lower 48,
Can,
H. Thieme,
Man Parrish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oneida,
The Gun Club,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ohio Players,
The American Breed,
Henry Cow,
ABBA,
Black Flag,
Fela Kuti,
Althea and Donna,
Severed Heads,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Average White Band,
Cameo,
China Crisis,
Bush Tetras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aaron Thompson,
Crooked Eye,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.