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 Slovenia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the jazz 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lebanon Hanover,
D'Angelo,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
Warsaw,
Danielle Patucci,
John Lydon,
The Names,
Nik Kershaw,
Minnie Riperton,
The Litter,
Basic Channel,
T.S.O.L.,
DNA,
Marc Almond,
Moss Icon,
Susan Cadogan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Machine,
Yazoo,
Bill Wells,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MC5,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fall,
Juan Atkins,
Fad Gadget,
The J.B.'s,
Boredoms,
DJ Sneak,
Wings,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
CMW,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Radiohead,
Tim Buckley,
T. Rex,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Association,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
China Crisis,
Barrington Levy,
Shuggie Otis,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Easy Going,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
The Selecter,
Scratch Acid,
Judy Mowatt,
Agitation Free,
Dead Boys,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.