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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Dave Gahan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
This Heat,
Scratch Acid,
The Seeds,
Alphaville,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Enemy,
Sun City Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Yusef Lateef,
Man Eating Sloth,
Q and Not U,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Flash Fearless,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare,
The Motions,
Fatback Band,
Swell Maps,
Suburban Knight,
Interpol,
Dead Boys,
Los Fastidios,
R.M.O.,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
a-ha,
DJ Style,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Banda Bassotti,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Bourne,
Negative Approach,
Cymande,
Cameo,
The Move,
Pantytec,
Mr. Review,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aural Exciters,
Slick Rick,
The Raincoats,
Alton Ellis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.