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 Guyana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mojo Men,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moleskins,
Crooked Eye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Wells,
Bluetip,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
Moby Grape,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deepchord,
Lebanon Hanover,
Young Marble Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
EPMD,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
Marine Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Panda Bear,
Skriet,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blues Magoos,
The Busters,
Au Pairs,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Wake,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Section 25,
Desert Stars,
Skaos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Goldenarms,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Green,
Letta Mbulu,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Q and Not U,
Thee Headcoats,
Hoover,
Clear Light,
Mr. Review,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.