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 Senegal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 B.T. Express to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Fad Gadget,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camberwell Now,
Public Enemy,
Chrome,
Soft Cell,
Scan 7,
The Evens,
Chris & Cosey,
Reagan Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
The Buckinghams,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mission of Burma,
Cybotron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scion,
Loose Ends,
The Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Simply Red,
Lightning Bolt,
Sparks,
Unwound,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Don Cherry,
the Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fuzztones,
Urselle,
The Offenders,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Near,
Hashim,
Janne Schatter,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Human League,
The Five Americans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Junior Murvin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cecil Taylor,
Dawn Penn,
Livin' Joy,
10cc,
Kerri Chandler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Eating Sloth,
Guru Guru,
U.S. Maple,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod,
Stiv Bators,
Circle Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minny Pops,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.