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 Bahamas and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bootsy Collins to the rap 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
In Retrospect,
Rites of Spring,
Derrick May,
Barry Ungar,
Con Funk Shun,
Nirvana,
Man Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DJ Sneak,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
Intrusion,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
Soulsonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
The American Breed,
the Human League,
The Gun Club,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
Panda Bear,
Accadde A,
Roxette,
Scrapy,
Dennis Brown,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Al Stewart,
Section 25,
Hardrive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
Eddi Front,
Fat Boys,
Ponytail,
Carl Craig,
Scratch Acid,
Aloha Tigers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
The Pop Group,
the Slits,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Zeros,
Glenn Branca,
Rosa Yemen,
Faust,
Quadrant,
The Five Americans,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Starr,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Remains,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.