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 Sierra Leone 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Black Pus to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pantytec,
48th St. Collective,
June Days,
Absolute Body Control,
Shuggie Otis,
Nico,
Oblivians,
Easy Going,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Animal Collective,
Bill Near,
The Wake,
Marine Girls,
the Swans,
Archie Shepp,
Rod Modell,
Eve St. Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alison Limerick,
Flipper,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang of Four,
Banda Bassotti,
Pagans,
The Cure,
Con Funk Shun,
Monks,
Skaos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Moon,
R.M.O.,
The Gladiators,
Unrelated Segments,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kayak,
Jeff Lynne,
The Pretty Things,
Malaria!,
Lakeside,
Q65,
Technova,
Vainqueur,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
Drexciya,
Amazonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Oneida,
Robert Hood,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.