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 Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
June Days,
Radiohead,
The Smoke,
Faust,
Susan Cadogan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
The Trojans,
Drexciya,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zapp,
K-Klass,
Morten Harket,
Sight & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Frankie Knuckles,
The New Christs,
Blancmange,
Livin' Joy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Erasure,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nik Kershaw,
Agent Orange,
The Cramps,
The Sonics,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Duran Duran,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
The Dirtbombs,
The Barracudas,
Sam Rivers,
The Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Unwound,
Marmalade,
KRS-One,
The Remains,
Blossom Toes,
JFA,
Parry Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Toni Rubio,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.