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 Kosovo and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bad Manners to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suicide,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Accadde A,
Outsiders,
Kool Moe Dee,
These Immortal Souls,
The Music Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Charles Mingus,
Reagan Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alton Ellis,
10cc,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
Aswad,
Cheater Slicks,
EPMD,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shuggie Otis,
Sugar Minott,
Vainqueur,
Sound Behaviour,
Altered Images,
Minnie Riperton,
Skaos,
The Selecter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flipper,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mojo Men,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Alice Coltrane,
Drexciya,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Byrd,
the Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Clarke,
Donny Hathaway,
Maurizio,
Kayak,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slick Rick,
CMW,
cv313,
Alison Limerick,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.