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 United States and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Archie Shepp to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Clarke,
Underground Resistance,
Organ,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blackbyrds,
K-Klass,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
The Modern Lovers,
Boredoms,
Metal Thangz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Little Man,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crime,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
Gang of Four,
Deepchord,
Dave Gahan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tim Buckley,
The Motions,
Ronnie Foster,
Livin' Joy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David McCallum,
JFA,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
June of 44,
Delon & Dalcan,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Smog,
Mars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
One Last Wish,
Bill Wells,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantytec,
Jerry's Kids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crash Course in Science,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.