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 Burundi and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Todd Rundgren to the funk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Invisible,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Germs,
Con Funk Shun,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pantytec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Birthday Party,
X-101,
Sun Ra,
Idris Muhammad,
Interpol,
Scrapy,
Radiohead,
New York Dolls,
The Golliwogs,
Yellowson,
Derrick Morgan,
Morten Harket,
Pussy Galore,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yusef Lateef,
Mantronix,
Q65,
The Kinks,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Excepter,
T. Rex,
Joyce Sims,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
Pierre Henry,
Junior Murvin,
Skriet,
Make Up,
Robert Hood,
Ten City,
The Cramps,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Icehouse,
the Association,
Yazoo,
Vladislav Delay,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Terry Callier,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chris Corsano,
Dawn Penn,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erasure,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.