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 Samoa and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Stetsasonic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Simply Red,
Roxy Music,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Trojans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultimate Spinach,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Subhumans,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
DJ Style,
Cymande,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marc Almond,
D'Angelo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
New Order,
the Bar-Kays,
The J.B.'s,
Aural Exciters,
Intrusion,
Ice-T,
Flamin' Groovies,
Malaria!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Invisible,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harmonia,
OOIOO,
The Index,
Rod Modell,
The Slackers,
E-Dancer,
Ultravox,
Oblivians,
The Stooges,
Dawn Penn,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Searchers,
Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Fad Gadget,
World's Most,
Roy Ayers,
Juan Atkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Yellowson,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.