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 Spain and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Janne Schatter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Niagra,
Lightning Bolt,
Rosa Yemen,
Das Ding,
The Gap Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kayak,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter and Kerry,
Qualms,
the Bar-Kays,
Rhythm & Sound,
Skaos,
the Slits,
T. Rex,
FM Einheit,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fortunes,
the Association,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hardrive,
Jerry's Kids,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Intrusion,
Can,
Gil Scott Heron,
Toni Rubio,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
Alton Ellis,
The Martian,
Deepchord,
Wasted Youth,
Mr. Review,
Smog,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
The Fall,
Heaven 17,
Derrick May,
Bob Dylan,
Model 500,
Minnie Riperton,
Yellowson,
Dark Day,
Frankie Knuckles,
Porter Ricks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Leonard Cohen,
Scan 7,
Ten City,
Erykah Badu,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.