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 Djibouti and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Idris Muhammad to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Avey Tare,
Faraquet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeru the Damaja,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Babytalk,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül II,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Germs,
Slave,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacques Brel,
Stereo Dub,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Metal Thangz,
Stetsasonic,
James White and The Blacks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Stooges,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Kevin Saunderson,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gladiators,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Golliwogs,
Lucky Dragons,
Duran Duran,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lee Hazlewood,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deakin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Y Pants,
Black Moon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agitation Free,
Royal Trux,
Magma,
Livin' Joy,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Darondo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Cell,
Model 500,
Lou Reed,
The Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nik Kershaw,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.