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 Luxembourg and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Skarface to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siglo XX,
Wings,
Jesper Dahlback,
Newcleus,
The J.B.'s,
DJ Style,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Model 500,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Underground Resistance,
The Smoke,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Blues Magoos,
The Remains,
DJ Sneak,
Kurtis Blow,
D'Angelo,
Moss Icon,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
Jimmy McGriff,
Interpol,
The Sisters of Mercy,
R.M.O.,
The Gladiators,
Scion,
Letta Mbulu,
Marmalade,
Babytalk,
Barrington Levy,
Cal Tjader,
Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Busters,
Amon Düül II,
Susan Cadogan,
Pantytec,
Arcadia,
Juan Atkins,
Skaos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Techniques,
The Skatalites,
Drive Like Jehu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Durutti Column,
Franke,
Black Pus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.