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 Cameroon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Man Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Wells,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Ronnie Foster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Banda Bassotti,
Rod Modell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fela Kuti,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
Mandrill,
Amazonics,
Marc Almond,
Shuggie Otis,
Au Pairs,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
Royal Trux,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bad Manners,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Judy Mowatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun City Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cybotron,
Heaven 17,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
Jandek,
Marine Girls,
B.T. Express,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Groovy Waters,
Depeche Mode,
Zapp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cecil Taylor,
Little Man,
John Foxx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scratch Acid,
LL Cool J,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.