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 Thailand and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ralphi Rosario to the disco 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Thompson Twins,
OOIOO,
Hot Snakes,
Mo-Dettes,
Joey Negro,
Jandek,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David Bowie,
R.M.O.,
Newcleus,
The Count Five,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Arab on Radar,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moss Icon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Schoolly D,
The Pretty Things,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June Days,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
Minutemen,
Flash Fearless,
Rakim,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moody Blues,
Jeff Lynne,
Underground Resistance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Rapeman,
Icehouse,
Neu!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
K-Klass,
Organ,
Anthony Braxton,
Fear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Connie Case,
The Standells,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faust,
Lalo Schifrin,
Silicon Teens,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.