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 Luxembourg and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 T.S.O.L. to the rap 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
AZ,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Josef K,
Tommy Roe,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Victims,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson,
The Move,
Model 500,
Scion,
Fugazi,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Altered Images,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
David McCallum,
Amon Düül II,
Minor Threat,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier,
Prince Buster,
Davy DMX,
the Bar-Kays,
Circle Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Q65,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
Mars,
The Pop Group,
The Happenings,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Soft Cell,
kango's stein massive,
June Days,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Shoche,
Fear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Warsaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.