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 Uruguay and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 U.S. Maple to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tres Demented,
The Black Dice,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kas Product,
The Mojo Men,
The Misunderstood,
Ten City,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
Smog,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lungfish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moebius,
Faust,
Slick Rick,
Scion,
Deakin,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Sherman,
Eddi Front,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
Scan 7,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gabor Szabo,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dave Gahan,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
Rites of Spring,
Babytalk,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alton Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
DJ Sneak,
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jawbox,
Main Source,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.