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 East Timor and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yaz to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers,
Crooked Eye,
Pierre Henry,
One Last Wish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Newcleus,
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
Qualms,
Dark Day,
Stiv Bators,
Sam Rivers,
The Fall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agitation Free,
Jawbox,
Quando Quango,
Donny Hathaway,
Soul II Soul,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Duran Duran,
John Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
Rosa Yemen,
EPMD,
Morten Harket,
The Offenders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mark Hollis,
Mission of Burma,
John Holt,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tommy Roe,
The Fuzztones,
Pole,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris Corsano,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bauhaus,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Minutemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jandek,
Andrew Hill,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Sherman,
The Litter,
Wasted Youth,
Fatback Band,
Porter Ricks,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.