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 Lesotho and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Clarke,
The Real Kids,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Circle Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Judy Mowatt,
Tears for Fears,
Quadrant,
Black Moon,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Count Five,
Brick,
Brass Construction,
New Order,
The Raincoats,
Tim Buckley,
Sight & Sound,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mandrill,
Darondo,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers,
Fluxion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Scratch Acid,
Sarah Menescal,
The Buckinghams,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tommy Roe,
Black Bananas,
Todd Terry,
The Gladiators,
These Immortal Souls,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Techniques,
Television,
Bob Dylan,
The Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pere Ubu,
Motorama,
Iggy Pop,
Fatback Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Smog,
Flash Fearless,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Steve Hackett,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.