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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin 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 Guru Guru to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
10cc,
Crime,
The Detroit Cobras,
Icehouse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ossler,
Jawbox,
Rapeman,
Carl Craig,
Jeff Mills,
Tommy Roe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
Buzzcocks,
New Order,
Tim Buckley,
La Düsseldorf,
Quando Quango,
Brand Nubian,
Eric Dolphy,
Kayak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hasil Adkins,
Desert Stars,
Pantaleimon,
a-ha,
David Bowie,
The Trojans,
Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Loose Ends,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare,
Alphaville,
Rod Modell,
Wolf Eyes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scientists,
Tubeway Army,
KRS-One,
The Names,
Slick Rick,
Piero Umiliani,
Warsaw,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
Mo-Dettes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Wyatt,
Deakin,
Dave Gahan,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.