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 Uzbekistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Masters at Work,
Danielle Patucci,
The Wake,
Fluxion,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sun Ra,
the Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cecil Taylor,
Isaac Hayes,
New Order,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Sherman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronan,
Althea and Donna,
The Smiths,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
AZ,
Gabor Szabo,
Howard Jones,
The Fire Engines,
Pagans,
Moby Grape,
Traffic Nightmare,
Archie Shepp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
Lyres,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fugs,
Grauzone,
Eric Copeland,
JFA,
Echospace,
Bootsy Collins,
Faust,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monolake,
Crime,
Dead Boys,
Nas,
The Sound,
The Last Poets,
World's Most,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.