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 Niger and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Camouflage to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
the Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
LL Cool J,
Joe Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Monochrome Set,
Toni Rubio,
Juan Atkins,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Marine Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Visage,
Tim Buckley,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Techniques,
Lightning Bolt,
Hot Snakes,
Sam Rivers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Skatalites,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
David Bowie,
Wings,
Arcadia,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
Underground Resistance,
Supertramp,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
The Barracudas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dennis Brown,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Womack,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Maurizio,
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tres Demented,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rites of Spring,
Boredoms,
Swell Maps,
DNA,
Bobby Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
The Dirtbombs,
Lower 48,
Los Fastidios,
The Index,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.