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 Marshall Islands and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 CMW to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
The Moleskins,
Metal Thangz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Porter Ricks,
Kerri Chandler,
Agitation Free,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wasted Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rod Modell,
Nas,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Trojans,
Negative Approach,
Los Fastidios,
Harmonia,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minnie Riperton,
The Barracudas,
Piero Umiliani,
The Human League,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Supertramp,
Carl Craig,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roger Hodgson,
Guru Guru,
The Mojo Men,
The Searchers,
Joy Division,
Pierre Henry,
X-102,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lower 48,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang Green,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Misunderstood,
Shoche,
Bob Dylan,
The Gap Band,
Colin Newman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ken Boothe,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.