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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba 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 Con Funk Shun to the grime 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Starr,
Donald Byrd,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Godley & Creme,
The Pop Group,
Pole,
Spoonie Gee,
Q and Not U,
Laurel Aitken,
Severed Heads,
Ralphi Rosario,
Agent Orange,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
The Last Poets,
Fugazi,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young,
Icehouse,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Stooges,
Intrusion,
The Smoke,
the Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
The Techniques,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rites of Spring,
Bang On A Can,
New Age Steppers,
Connie Case,
The Skatalites,
Tom Boy,
Sällskapet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Carl Craig,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thompson Twins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gabor Szabo,
Lindisfarne,
Joey Negro,
The Fortunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
Procol Harum,
Underground Resistance,
Wire,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
Livin' Joy,
The Cramps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Urselle,
Lucky Dragons,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thee Headcoats,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.