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 Philippines and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Gun Club to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brick,
Moss Icon,
James White and The Blacks,
the Swans,
Wire,
Minny Pops,
Camouflage,
Sam Rivers,
Slick Rick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Toni Rubio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flipper,
Kurtis Blow,
Pulsallama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Misunderstood,
The Wake,
Niagra,
Black Sheep,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mandrill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Model 500,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Oblivians,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Sound Behaviour,
Anthony Braxton,
Pagans,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hot Snakes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Parry Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
The Music Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Halsall,
Desert Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joyce Sims,
Mo-Dettes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scratch Acid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David Bowie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
A Certain Ratio,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.