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 Dominica and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Basic Channel to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a marimba 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 guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Ornette Coleman,
Iggy Pop,
Mandrill,
The Moody Blues,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scratch Acid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
Magma,
La Düsseldorf,
Gerry Rafferty,
Motorama,
Rites of Spring,
Qualms,
The Velvet Underground,
JFA,
Tommy Roe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roxette,
Zapp,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jacob Miller,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultra Naté,
Barrington Levy,
Tim Buckley,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlback,
MDC,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Charles Mingus,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon,
Barbara Tucker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dennis Brown,
The Offenders,
Vladislav Delay,
The Tremeloes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sugar Minott,
Eve St. Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hasil Adkins,
F. McDonald,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Count Five,
Yaz,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.