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 Kiribati and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Jacob Miller,
Sparks,
Henry Cow,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
John Holt,
Excepter,
KRS-One,
The Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grauzone,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Malaria!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stetsasonic,
Cluster,
Aural Exciters,
Spoonie Gee,
Scrapy,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter & Gordon,
Deadbeat,
Pole,
The J.B.'s,
Mars,
The Modern Lovers,
Dual Sessions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Half Japanese,
Kevin Saunderson,
Main Source,
Fugazi,
The Fall,
the Association,
Essential Logic,
Roy Ayers,
The Smoke,
Average White Band,
Funky Four + One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scan 7,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cramps,
Make Up,
Visage,
The Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Janne Schatter,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.