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 Norway and from Toronto.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 J.B.'s to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
The Knickerbockers,
Agitation Free,
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
The Move,
Qualms,
Barrington Levy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
PIL,
The Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
X-Ray Spex,
Little Man,
The Smoke,
Nirvana,
Siglo XX,
Accadde A,
Johnny Clarke,
Underground Resistance,
Tim Buckley,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Black Flag,
Roxy Music,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nas,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
The Walker Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Y Pants,
Das Ding,
OOIOO,
The United States of America,
The Dead C,
Barbara Tucker,
Pantytec,
Bang On A Can,
Heaven 17,
Unwound,
Bluetip,
Pylon,
Japan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dawn Penn,
Delta 5,
Khruangbin,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Jacques Brel,
Harmonia,
Joey Negro,
Leonard Cohen,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.