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 Libya and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare 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 rap 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Ituana,
Rufus Thomas,
Blancmange,
the Germs,
Lou Reed,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Association,
Scan 7,
Sun Ra,
Brand Nubian,
Minny Pops,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
The Velvet Underground,
Jesper Dahlback,
Agitation Free,
DNA,
Ten City,
Alison Limerick,
The Residents,
Sixth Finger,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
U.S. Maple,
The Index,
Cluster,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun City Girls,
Scientists,
Amazonics,
LL Cool J,
Agent Orange,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
June of 44,
H. Thieme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Swans,
Kaleidoscope,
Don Cherry,
Urselle,
Fugazi,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blackbyrds,
Marine Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Byron Stingily,
Harmonia,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Normal,
Basic Channel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.