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 Iraq and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 Brass Construction to the dance 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter and Kerry,
Johnny Clarke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bad Manners,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Happenings,
Model 500,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra,
Gastr Del Sol,
David Axelrod,
Freddie Wadling,
Fad Gadget,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
David Bowie,
The Cure,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bronski Beat,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas,
Pylon,
The Trojans,
Fela Kuti,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
Terry Callier,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
KRS-One,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
Rekid,
Liliput,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scratch Acid,
The Slackers,
Lightning Bolt,
Negative Approach,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Invisible,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
The Wake,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.