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 Liberia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Smiths to the techno 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Archie Shepp,
Amon Düül,
Ossler,
Neil Young,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Kinks,
Surgeon,
Robert Görl,
Ituana,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cramps,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Al Stewart,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Kevin Saunderson,
OOIOO,
Morten Harket,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gun Club,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Litter,
Eurythmics,
Malaria!,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cymande,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donald Byrd,
Kayak,
The United States of America,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
The Mojo Men,
The Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fortunes,
Warren Ellis,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nico,
The Move,
AZ,
Tommy Roe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Clarke,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.