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 Andorra and from Mumbai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 In Retrospect to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Sight & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dirtbombs,
Young Marble Giants,
Monks,
Lou Reed,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacob Miller,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stiv Bators,
The Doors,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rotary Connection,
Reagan Youth,
Nas,
Jandek,
a-ha,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Jesper Dahlback,
Anakelly,
The Beau Brummels,
Mars,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Womack,
The Red Krayola,
Gastr Del Sol,
D'Angelo,
Minnie Riperton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sandy B,
Reuben Wilson,
Eve St. Jones,
Carl Craig,
Marshall Jefferson,
Buzzcocks,
Sonic Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Joey Negro,
Metal Thangz,
Warsaw,
Soulsonic Force,
David McCallum,
Mo-Dettes,
Sugar Minott,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mark Hollis,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Hood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.