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 Burkina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 H. Thieme 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harmonia,
Popol Vuh,
Siglo XX,
David Axelrod,
Hashim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Sheep,
Yaz,
Ultravox,
Unwound,
Make Up,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aloha Tigers,
The Toasters,
Faust,
MDC,
Soft Machine,
Ten City,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Roxette,
Camberwell Now,
Kayak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Michelle Simonal,
The Doobie Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Magazine,
Scion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Simply Red,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Hoover,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang Green,
Spoonie Gee,
Mo-Dettes,
Pussy Galore,
Model 500,
Arcadia,
Basic Channel,
Monks,
Surgeon,
Eric Copeland,
Funkadelic,
kango's stein massive,
Lightning Bolt,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
The Walker Brothers,
Whodini,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.