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 Iraq and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Adolescents to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Godley & Creme,
Roger Hodgson,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cramps,
Matthew Bourne,
Livin' Joy,
Mad Mike,
Lindisfarne,
Porter Ricks,
Moby Grape,
Franke,
Quando Quango,
T. Rex,
Juan Atkins,
The Pop Group,
In Retrospect,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
The Birthday Party,
Gabor Szabo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Derrick Morgan,
Excepter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Monolake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
Parry Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Lydon,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Lucky Dragons,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eden Ahbez,
Interpol,
Freddie Wadling,
Rotary Connection,
The Walker Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
Boredoms,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Connie Case,
Cymande,
The Sound,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
Royal Trux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.