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 Ukraine and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fugazi to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Clear Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fugs,
Blossom Toes,
Los Fastidios,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brass Construction,
F. McDonald,
Peter & Gordon,
Lindisfarne,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Warsaw,
Suicide,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
Cecil Taylor,
Procol Harum,
Negative Approach,
Donny Hathaway,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Groovy Waters,
Lucky Dragons,
Animal Collective,
Aloha Tigers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Boz Scaggs,
Derrick May,
Iggy Pop,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sonics,
Brick,
Zero Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Residents,
Franke,
Ultravox,
Banda Bassotti,
Massinfluence,
Excepter,
The Invisible,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Make Up,
Dennis Brown,
Leonard Cohen,
Sandy B,
8 Eyed Spy,
Charles Mingus,
Heaven 17,
Flash Fearless,
Basic Channel,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.