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 Latvia and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Move,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Public Enemy,
Black Pus,
June of 44,
Tim Buckley,
MC5,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
Vainqueur,
T. Rex,
Eddi Front,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scion,
Jacques Brel,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Pylon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hashim,
Vladislav Delay,
The Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Teasers,
Jerry's Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Qualms,
Letta Mbulu,
Fear,
Slick Rick,
DNA,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
Ultra Naté,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nas,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills,
Khruangbin,
Michelle Simonal,
Albert Ayler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Rod Modell,
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sixth Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
U.S. Maple,
Mad Mike,
Althea and Donna,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.