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 Hungary and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 Aloha Tigers to the grunge 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
the Bar-Kays,
Rosa Yemen,
Accadde A,
The Velvet Underground,
Procol Harum,
H. Thieme,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fugs,
Faraquet,
T. Rex,
Barbara Tucker,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Red Krayola,
The Standells,
Lou Reed,
Colin Newman,
Pierre Henry,
Sound Behaviour,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fuzztones,
U.S. Maple,
Michelle Simonal,
John Holt,
Deepchord,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
Liliput,
Sun Ra,
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
the Normal,
Josef K,
ABC,
Ludus,
The Selecter,
Thee Headcoats,
Monolake,
Susan Cadogan,
Wings,
Essential Logic,
Camberwell Now,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang Green,
Harry Pussy,
Man Parrish,
Schoolly D,
Panda Bear,
Skaos,
DJ Style,
The Cure,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Davy DMX,
Derrick May,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bad Manners,
Unrelated Segments,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.