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 Latvia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Robert Palmer 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 F. McDonald to the rock 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
John Lydon,
K-Klass,
Funkadelic,
Underground Resistance,
Scrapy,
Radio Birdman,
Surgeon,
Fat Boys,
John Holt,
Amon Düül II,
Section 25,
Peter and Kerry,
Swans,
Loose Ends,
La Düsseldorf,
Sun Ra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rekid,
Terry Callier,
The Music Machine,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
Flamin' Groovies,
Second Layer,
Oneida,
The American Breed,
Kas Product,
ABBA,
Steve Hackett,
Glenn Branca,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dead Boys,
Nils Olav,
Deepchord,
Deakin,
Q and Not U,
Slave,
The Mojo Men,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Magazine,
Interpol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mad Mike,
The Leaves,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Sherman,
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
AZ,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.