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 Madagascar and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Junior Murvin,
Faust,
Dead Boys,
Lakeside,
E-Dancer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Sneak,
Average White Band,
Parry Music,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
Patti Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Danielle Patucci,
Loose Ends,
Moebius,
Mantronix,
The Mojo Men,
Skriet,
John Lydon,
Bronski Beat,
the Slits,
The Pretty Things,
the Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bang On A Can,
kango's stein massive,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
June of 44,
Erasure,
OOIOO,
Rekid,
Hasil Adkins,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cowsills,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moby Grape,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Normal,
Joe Smooth,
Kerri Chandler,
Blossom Toes,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
Minnie Riperton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kenny Larkin,
Amazonics,
Sandy B,
F. McDonald,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Ohio Players,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Marcia Griffiths,
Silicon Teens,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.