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 San Marino and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Anakelly,
Bill Near,
Marvin Gaye,
Ohio Players,
Soft Cell,
June Days,
Franke,
Kurtis Blow,
Fela Kuti,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
R.M.O.,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blues Magoos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rekid,
Amon Düül,
Alison Limerick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ponytail,
Morten Harket,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Music Machine,
The Techniques,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dennis Brown,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
the Slits,
Wally Richardson,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Hood,
Von Mondo,
Lyres,
Bobby Hutcherson,
MDC,
Peter and Kerry,
John Cale,
Scion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
F. McDonald,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lakeside,
Royal Trux,
Newcleus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neu!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
Cluster,
Smog,
The Kinks,
Section 25,
ABC,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.