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 Morocco and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 This Heat to the jazz 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Ornette Coleman,
The Young Rascals,
Fat Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Wolf Eyes,
Audionom,
Bronski Beat,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flash Fearless,
Mandrill,
Ituana,
Sarah Menescal,
Fluxion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül II,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
Funkadelic,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fortunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erykah Badu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric Copeland,
Royal Trux,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mantronix,
Hashim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Cameo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
T. Rex,
The Slackers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Morten Harket,
Flipper,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
Amazonics,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jawbox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Basic Channel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quadrant,
Jacob Miller,
The Happenings,
The Remains,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.