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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Cymande,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Porter Ricks,
The Evens,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cure,
Roxette,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Terry,
Qualms,
Fatback Band,
Main Source,
Crooked Eye,
Deakin,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Wake,
Lyres,
Q65,
Wally Richardson,
Gabor Szabo,
Schoolly D,
The Stooges,
The Vogues,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Fluxion,
Robert Hood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rakim,
Joy Division,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lower 48,
Wire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Gun Club,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry's Kids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ituana,
Magazine,
Audionom,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
Unrelated Segments,
Barrington Levy,
AZ,
Mission of Burma,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thee Headcoats,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Can,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.