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 Costa Rica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Robert Palmer 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 Aaron Thompson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
The Last Poets,
Ituana,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
Black Bananas,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
Q and Not U,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Stooges,
These Immortal Souls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Altered Images,
The Move,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mantronix,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Darondo,
Fear,
Andrew Hill,
Sun Ra,
Pussy Galore,
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
The Count Five,
Warsaw,
Cluster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barrington Levy,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Hashim,
Stereo Dub,
Pulsallama,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Durutti Column,
Monolake,
Dennis Brown,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gun Club,
the Bar-Kays,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lyres,
Pagans,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.