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 Antigua and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Toasters to the grunge 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
Marine Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Model 500,
Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Neu!,
Freddie Wadling,
Technova,
Tubeway Army,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stetsasonic,
Angry Samoans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Martian,
The J.B.'s,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Laurel Aitken,
The Last Poets,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cluster,
Hoover,
Dave Gahan,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
Liliput,
Bill Near,
Deadbeat,
Make Up,
Brick,
Popol Vuh,
Mandrill,
Ten City,
The Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harmonia,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pylon,
Dark Day,
Fear,
Motorama,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Sixth Finger,
Vladislav Delay,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roy Ayers,
The Mummies,
Chris Corsano,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delta 5,
Yaz,
JFA,
Flipper,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.