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 Grenada and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 Alton Ellis to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Groovy Waters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spandau Ballet,
Althea and Donna,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anakelly,
Minor Threat,
Soulsonic Force,
Mad Mike,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joyce Sims,
Y Pants,
Unrelated Segments,
Scientists,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Porter Ricks,
The Vogues,
John Lydon,
Basic Channel,
The United States of America,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Drexciya,
Deakin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sex Pistols,
Albert Ayler,
the Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Graham Central Station,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
The New Christs,
The Smoke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
The Skatalites,
The Litter,
the Swans,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
The Black Dice,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash,
Magma,
the Bar-Kays,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barry Ungar,
Faraquet,
Aloha Tigers,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.