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 Bahamas and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Matthew Bourne,
Marine Girls,
The Count Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gichy Dan,
The Gladiators,
Derrick Morgan,
KRS-One,
Rapeman,
MC5,
The Monks,
The Gun Club,
Man Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Techniques,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeff Lynne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Outsiders,
Section 25,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T. Rex,
Radiohead,
Yazoo,
Michelle Simonal,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
Theoretical Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
New Order,
Tears for Fears,
Supertramp,
Dawn Penn,
Steve Hackett,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Tommy Roe,
Judy Mowatt,
Sugar Minott,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Cabaret Voltaire,
These Immortal Souls,
David Axelrod,
Essential Logic,
The Searchers,
The Saints,
Max Romeo,
The Gap Band,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Banda Bassotti,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.