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 Korea South and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
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 oboe 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Altered Images,
Judy Mowatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tim Buckley,
Japan,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül II,
Ponytail,
Gang Gang Dance,
Circle Jerks,
Hot Snakes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
Au Pairs,
Max Romeo,
Mo-Dettes,
Byron Stingily,
Marc Almond,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
Chris Corsano,
Michelle Simonal,
Urselle,
Pagans,
The Velvet Underground,
DNA,
The Index,
Ralphi Rosario,
Los Fastidios,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Lydon,
Junior Murvin,
Scott Walker,
New Age Steppers,
Subhumans,
Roger Hodgson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter and Kerry,
The Buckinghams,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David Bowie,
Drexciya,
Nas,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Osbourne,
E-Dancer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
Rites of Spring,
the Normal,
The Human League,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.