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 Rwanda and from London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Deakin to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Wasted Youth,
China Crisis,
Donald Byrd,
The Zeros,
Gang Green,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swell Maps,
Roxette,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gap Band,
The Names,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The American Breed,
Mark Hollis,
Ituana,
The Evens,
Amon Düül II,
Junior Murvin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lindisfarne,
Yusef Lateef,
The Flesh Eaters,
Von Mondo,
The Human League,
DNA,
Slave,
The Stooges,
Q and Not U,
The Last Poets,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
Rosa Yemen,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Index,
Cymande,
Ludus,
T. Rex,
Black Sheep,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fela Kuti,
The Toasters,
World's Most,
Erykah Badu,
Deadbeat,
the Bar-Kays,
The Busters,
K-Klass,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.