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 Haiti and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Essential Logic to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yaz,
Junior Murvin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fad Gadget,
Royal Trux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Theoretical Girls,
Mantronix,
Spoonie Gee,
Slave,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
The Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Tremeloes,
Reagan Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Enemy,
Prince Buster,
The Buckinghams,
Tropical Tobacco,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
The Human League,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
The American Breed,
Section 25,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
Hashim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fugazi,
Metal Thangz,
Skaos,
Ice-T,
Angry Samoans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gabor Szabo,
the Soft Cell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Boredoms,
The Seeds,
Dark Day,
Althea and Donna,
Qualms,
Letta Mbulu,
Outsiders,
Goldenarms,
Cecil Taylor,
Nico,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.