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 Netherlands and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Electric Prunes to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Davy DMX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nirvana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra,
the Soft Cell,
Barbara Tucker,
Subhumans,
Shoche,
Tropical Tobacco,
Inner City,
The Pretty Things,
Nils Olav,
John Lydon,
Skriet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Sonics,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
the Human League,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Todd Rundgren,
Sex Pistols,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fela Kuti,
Black Flag,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
Model 500,
Parry Music,
Jawbox,
The Cowsills,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke,
Nico,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T. Rex,
Boz Scaggs,
Infiniti,
The Slits,
Graham Central Station,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mojo Men,
Brothers Johnson,
Absolute Body Control,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Accadde A,
Japan,
The Stooges,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Johnny Osbourne,
Von Mondo,
Alison Limerick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.