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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Prince Buster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Letta Mbulu,
Unwound,
Kaleidoscope,
Grauzone,
Deepchord,
Erasure,
Bluetip,
The Move,
The Zeros,
Fat Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Bill Wells,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
Freddie Wadling,
Sarah Menescal,
The Velvet Underground,
Masters at Work,
Los Fastidios,
The Durutti Column,
Alton Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mo-Dettes,
The Young Rascals,
Jacob Miller,
Charles Mingus,
Ossler,
Terry Callier,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Circle Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Association,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Massinfluence,
Connie Case,
T. Rex,
Ohio Players,
Scratch Acid,
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
Al Stewart,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Tomorrow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Trojans,
Banda Bassotti,
The Remains,
Anakelly,
Gregory Isaacs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fortunes,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.