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 Botswana and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Last Poets to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Names,
ABBA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minor Threat,
Lou Reed,
Bush Tetras,
Moss Icon,
LL Cool J,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Dirtbombs,
Porter Ricks,
Intrusion,
Monolake,
Black Moon,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
The Pretty Things,
Fluxion,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers,
Rotary Connection,
Tommy Roe,
DNA,
Carl Craig,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Little Man,
The Invisible,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
Todd Terry,
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Icehouse,
Smog,
Accadde A,
Todd Rundgren,
Brick,
Lou Christie,
John Lydon,
Sixth Finger,
Joey Negro,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Ituana,
Bill Wells,
The Divine Comedy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Curtis Mayfield,
JFA,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.