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 Albania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Connie Case to the techno 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Scion,
Symarip,
Ten City,
The Mummies,
Soft Machine,
Au Pairs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lyres,
Anthony Braxton,
Camouflage,
Pagans,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy Collins,
Mad Mike,
Gregory Isaacs,
New York Dolls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Camberwell Now,
The Golliwogs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
Bush Tetras,
Pierre Henry,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
Max Romeo,
A Certain Ratio,
China Crisis,
Buzzcocks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dark Day,
Organ,
Nirvana,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Morten Harket,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rufus Thomas,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monks,
The Doors,
Toni Rubio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Section 25,
Rod Modell,
Absolute Body Control,
Ken Boothe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Audionom,
Country Teasers,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Parrish,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smoke,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.