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 Montenegro and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Nile Rodgers 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 David Axelrod to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The Sonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Motorama,
Smog,
Model 500,
The Fugs,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
Marvin Gaye,
Angry Samoans,
Sixth Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Television,
Cheater Slicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
K-Klass,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric Copeland,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amon Düül II,
Pantytec,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Excepter,
Bronski Beat,
Tears for Fears,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joe Smooth,
Monolake,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Von Mondo,
Half Japanese,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suburban Knight,
Ultravox,
Crooked Eye,
James White and The Blacks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu,
Inner City,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pulsallama,
Wally Richardson,
Fela Kuti,
Scan 7,
Graham Central Station,
LL Cool J,
The Tremeloes,
Sugar Minott,
Alice Coltrane,
Cymande,
Malaria!,
Gang Starr,
Tomorrow,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
Mark Hollis,
The Associates,
Chris Corsano,
Sound Behaviour,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.