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 India and from Houston.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Index to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Moon,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dirtbombs,
Tom Boy,
U.S. Maple,
Grey Daturas,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Swell Maps,
The Fire Engines,
Rotary Connection,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Star Department,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
Moebius,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Almond,
Malaria!,
The United States of America,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Kinks,
OOIOO,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ice-T,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slackers,
The Slits,
Avey Tare,
K-Klass,
CMW,
FM Einheit,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Green,
The Evens,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Sherman,
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
The Moleskins,
Young Marble Giants,
Schoolly D,
Magma,
The Mojo Men,
The Pretty Things,
Von Mondo,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roy Ayers,
the Germs,
the Sonics,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.