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 Sri Lanka and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rakim to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Joyce Sims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Don Cherry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Selecter,
Grauzone,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fatback Band,
U.S. Maple,
The Raincoats,
Scrapy,
The Index,
48th St. Collective,
Aswad,
The Searchers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
ABC,
Alphaville,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Buzzcocks,
The Martian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slackers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Flag,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Second Layer,
Organ,
KRS-One,
Roy Ayers,
Pierre Henry,
Lower 48,
Man Eating Sloth,
China Crisis,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
Hashim,
The Red Krayola,
The Tremeloes,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Half Japanese,
Siglo XX,
Man Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Royal Trux,
Schoolly D,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harmonia,
Gang Starr,
Sällskapet,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.