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 Maldives and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Inner City to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
John Coltrane,
Can,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Niagra,
Sparks,
Funkadelic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
Derrick May,
The Dirtbombs,
The Count Five,
Von Mondo,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Starr,
Janne Schatter,
The Mummies,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soulsonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
The Neon Judgement,
Bob Dylan,
Wire,
Duran Duran,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Motions,
Pere Ubu,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jimmy McGriff,
Freddie Wadling,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
PIL,
kango's stein massive,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott Heron,
Letta Mbulu,
Jawbox,
June Days,
the Germs,
The Fortunes,
Erasure,
Easy Going,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Warren Ellis,
Danielle Patucci,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gong,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.