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 Macedonia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Don Cherry to the funk 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Toni Rubio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Idris Muhammad,
Stereo Dub,
Cymande,
Basic Channel,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül,
Amazonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Faust,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Starr,
Lee Hazlewood,
Subhumans,
Chrome,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fall,
Camberwell Now,
Scion,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Velvet Underground,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Judy Mowatt,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fluxion,
Quantec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Certain Ratio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Maurizio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mars,
Kurtis Blow,
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Public Enemy,
Lyres,
Fela Kuti,
Isaac Hayes,
Pagans,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Sneak,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marine Girls,
Kas Product,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
John Lydon,
Archie Shepp,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
The Blackbyrds,
Mr. Review,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.