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 Lithuania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Funkadelic to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Wally Richardson,
Crooked Eye,
Supertramp,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonic Youth,
Tommy Roe,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers,
Nas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Malaria!,
The Gories,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Can,
Roger Hodgson,
The Red Krayola,
Barrington Levy,
X-101,
UT,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Infiniti,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
Spoonie Gee,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Birthday Party,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
The Vogues,
Slick Rick,
Andrew Hill,
T.S.O.L.,
Josef K,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Parry Music,
Prince Buster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Godley & Creme,
Public Enemy,
The Happenings,
Scion,
Alice Coltrane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Groovy Waters,
the Germs,
Nils Olav,
Subhumans,
Sex Pistols,
The Real Kids,
Amazonics,
Kayak,
Soul Sonic Force,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.