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 Jamaica and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Carl Craig,
The Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
Cecil Taylor,
Stereo Dub,
Panda Bear,
X-Ray Spex,
Visage,
Severed Heads,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Surgeon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
The Associates,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
Spandau Ballet,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
Bang On A Can,
Marc Almond,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
The Knickerbockers,
Model 500,
The Monks,
The Fall,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radiohead,
Josef K,
Ultravox,
Funkadelic,
Khruangbin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donald Byrd,
Mars,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Music Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Television,
K-Klass,
LL Cool J,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül,
Gang Starr,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Clarke,
Nirvana,
Procol Harum,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.