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 Nepal and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Aural Exciters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Gregory Isaacs,
Goldenarms,
Carl Craig,
Fela Kuti,
Silicon Teens,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cymande,
Excepter,
Chrome,
Marvin Gaye,
The Smiths,
June of 44,
Letta Mbulu,
The Barracudas,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The American Breed,
Isaac Hayes,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Wells,
Eve St. Jones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Agitation Free,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Angels of Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aswad,
Circle Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers,
The Names,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
the Slits,
Crime,
Oneida,
The Sound,
Soft Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blackbyrds,
The Searchers,
Althea and Donna,
Chris Corsano,
Fear,
Bobby Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joey Negro,
Peter and Kerry,
Motorama,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cal Tjader,
Laurel Aitken,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.