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 Zimbabwe 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Nas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide,
The Offenders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Golliwogs,
Underground Resistance,
The Names,
Amazonics,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Sneak,
Blossom Toes,
Dawn Penn,
Kerri Chandler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-101,
The New Christs,
Althea and Donna,
LL Cool J,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Arab on Radar,
The Real Kids,
The Associates,
Sarah Menescal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roxette,
Crooked Eye,
Bob Dylan,
Liliput,
T. Rex,
8 Eyed Spy,
Henry Cow,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeff Mills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Almond,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
AZ,
Essential Logic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dead Boys,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
B.T. Express,
Josef K,
Make Up,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Brick,
Deepchord,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.