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 Czech Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Stooges to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Angels of Light,
Junior Murvin,
Eden Ahbez,
Crime,
Cluster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Beau Brummels,
cv313,
Scratch Acid,
Masters at Work,
Newcleus,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Royal Trux,
Ossler,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gories,
Man Eating Sloth,
48th St. Collective,
The Gap Band,
Q65,
Moebius,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deakin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
Chrome,
Black Sheep,
Man Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Lynne,
Mad Mike,
Andrew Hill,
The Associates,
Rotary Connection,
Archie Shepp,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker,
The Saints,
The Cure,
Roy Ayers,
Alison Limerick,
ABBA,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mantronix,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sandy B,
Iggy Pop,
Bluetip,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Erasure,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.