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 Laos and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bar-Kays to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
The Wake,
Alison Limerick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Can,
Pet Shop Boys,
Khruangbin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Avey Tare,
Aloha Tigers,
Au Pairs,
The Martian,
Model 500,
Roxette,
Carl Craig,
PIL,
The Divine Comedy,
The Human League,
Minor Threat,
Skaos,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ituana,
Urselle,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kenny Larkin,
Marmalade,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Christie,
Mary Jane Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sound Behaviour,
The Doors,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
Chrome,
Brothers Johnson,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gories,
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
Main Source,
John Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
Barrington Levy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cluster,
Bang On A Can,
L. Decosne,
Kas Product,
Theoretical Girls,
Masters at Work,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül II,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.