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 Eritrea and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Pretty Things to the techno 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
Marc Almond,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
One Last Wish,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Starr,
Skarface,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Prince Buster,
Gang of Four,
Brothers Johnson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
In Retrospect,
the Sonics,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
The Leaves,
Cluster,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Main Source,
R.M.O.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Christie,
The Walker Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
Masters at Work,
The Gun Club,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maleditus Sound,
U.S. Maple,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
The United States of America,
Jandek,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
Unrelated Segments,
Urselle,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Patti Smith,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Pulsallama,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
Harry Pussy,
Cal Tjader,
the Normal,
Magazine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.