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 Gabon and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Funkadelic to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Siglo XX,
Dead Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
the Bar-Kays,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gories,
D'Angelo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hoover,
Janne Schatter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sister Nancy,
The Doors,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slick Rick,
Juan Atkins,
Bluetip,
The Young Rascals,
David Bowie,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Evens,
Byron Stingily,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Moleskins,
Scratch Acid,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
Stiv Bators,
Leonard Cohen,
a-ha,
Q and Not U,
Youth Brigade,
Television,
Ornette Coleman,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crooked Eye,
Monks,
KRS-One,
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
Ohio Players,
Hardrive,
Newcleus,
The Skatalites,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.