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 Sri Lanka and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Mummies to the crunk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Grandmaster Flash,
Whodini,
Bronski Beat,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Sherman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Steve Hackett,
Ultimate Spinach,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aural Exciters,
Nirvana,
The Litter,
Ultravox,
Pole,
The Music Machine,
Crime,
Dawn Penn,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Colin Newman,
Sex Pistols,
Public Image Ltd.,
10cc,
Mantronix,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Silicon Teens,
New Age Steppers,
Fear,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
ABBA,
Johnny Clarke,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed,
Nas,
The Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Henry Cow,
Tres Demented,
Kas Product,
Audionom,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras,
David Axelrod,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.