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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Scratch Acid,
Bizarre Inc.,
Deakin,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Clarke,
Public Image Ltd.,
The United States of America,
Qualms,
Massinfluence,
The Neon Judgement,
Matthew Halsall,
The American Breed,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Grass Roots,
Fugazi,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Nik Kershaw,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
The Birthday Party,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Cale,
La Düsseldorf,
Electric Prunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Sheep,
The Buckinghams,
Danielle Patucci,
Pussy Galore,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minor Threat,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
One Last Wish,
Eric Copeland,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Invisible,
The Star Department,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vainqueur,
Roger Hodgson,
Q65,
Mandrill,
Stereo Dub,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jacob Miller,
Barrington Levy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.