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 Mauritania and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Busters to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Copeland,
Gichy Dan,
Moss Icon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
China Crisis,
Gang Starr,
The Associates,
L. Decosne,
Inner City,
The Moleskins,
Jacob Miller,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cheater Slicks,
Quadrant,
Wire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
Terrestrial Tones,
The American Breed,
D'Angelo,
The Litter,
Wolf Eyes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars,
Aswad,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
Livin' Joy,
The Leaves,
Isaac Hayes,
The Last Poets,
Bill Near,
Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hashim,
Cal Tjader,
Toni Rubio,
Rod Modell,
Grauzone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Ultra Naté,
Y Pants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
FM Einheit,
Ludus,
Ossler,
48th St. Collective,
Kayak,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
Nils Olav,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.