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 Zimbabwe and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Japan to the grime 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
The Gories,
Ken Boothe,
Dennis Brown,
Black Flag,
Clear Light,
Siglo XX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Starr,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heaven 17,
The Happenings,
The Mojo Men,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Associates,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Underground Resistance,
The Fortunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Masters at Work,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The American Breed,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
EPMD,
Josef K,
Leonard Cohen,
Altered Images,
The Vogues,
Don Cherry,
Eric Dolphy,
Simply Red,
The Neon Judgement,
Yazoo,
Kayak,
Deepchord,
David McCallum,
Slave,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
New York Dolls,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fatback Band,
John Lydon,
Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.