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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
8 Eyed Spy,
10cc,
Lyres,
Scratch Acid,
Chrome,
Intrusion,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lungfish,
World's Most,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Supertramp,
Skaos,
FM Einheit,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Almond,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eli Mardock,
Arab on Radar,
the Bar-Kays,
Althea and Donna,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül II,
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Jacob Miller,
The Golliwogs,
Danielle Patucci,
Stereo Dub,
Rosa Yemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Swell Maps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Matthew Bourne,
Jesper Dahlback,
MDC,
La Düsseldorf,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Junior Murvin,
Symarip,
Bauhaus,
Lower 48,
Boz Scaggs,
The Raincoats,
Grauzone,
Cameo,
Technova,
Section 25,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick May,
Procol Harum,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marcia Griffiths,
Susan Cadogan,
Sight & Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cecil Taylor,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.