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 Mozambique and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 Piero Umiliani to the grime 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
A Certain Ratio,
Ronnie Foster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
LL Cool J,
The Gories,
The United States of America,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Toasters,
DJ Sneak,
Soul II Soul,
Bush Tetras,
The Velvet Underground,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amazonics,
Basic Channel,
Minor Threat,
Stiv Bators,
Jacob Miller,
Smog,
Dark Day,
The Cowsills,
Ohio Players,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Dual Sessions,
Barrington Levy,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Model 500,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jerry's Kids,
Mantronix,
Joey Negro,
The Standells,
T. Rex,
Moebius,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Starr,
The Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Buckinghams,
Grey Daturas,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.