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 Uzbekistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 The Techniques to the funk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
DNA,
Pulsallama,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat,
Organ,
The Cure,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radio Birdman,
The Busters,
Funky Four + One,
Jawbox,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fuzztones,
Mandrill,
John Lydon,
Chris & Cosey,
Brand Nubian,
Mission of Burma,
Donald Byrd,
Inner City,
LL Cool J,
Arthur Verocai,
Alice Coltrane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Juan Atkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Con Funk Shun,
Tubeway Army,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacob Miller,
Piero Umiliani,
Letta Mbulu,
Panda Bear,
The Gories,
T.S.O.L.,
The Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
The Star Department,
Spandau Ballet,
Lungfish,
Fatback Band,
The Fortunes,
The Young Rascals,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MDC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Angels of Light,
Sound Behaviour,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Rites of Spring,
Sister Nancy,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
The Techniques,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.