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 United Kingdom and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Byron Stingily 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moebius,
Boz Scaggs,
Tim Buckley,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Moon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joe Finger,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crash Course in Science,
MC5,
Lakeside,
Mad Mike,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donny Hathaway,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monolake,
Rapeman,
Matthew Halsall,
The Misunderstood,
Malaria!,
Motorama,
Cal Tjader,
Popol Vuh,
Wasted Youth,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Sun City Girls,
David Axelrod,
Sandy B,
Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Byrd,
Deepchord,
D'Angelo,
The Searchers,
Siglo XX,
the Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Techniques,
Alton Ellis,
Ohio Players,
The Mojo Men,
Silicon Teens,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
Arab on Radar,
ABC,
Mo-Dettes,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.