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 Nepal and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the jazz 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Aural Exciters,
Rod Modell,
Yaz,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Sonic Youth,
Essential Logic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Pagans,
Nirvana,
Gong,
Mr. Review,
Intrusion,
Josef K,
Popol Vuh,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Moss Icon,
Television,
Darondo,
Bang On A Can,
New York Dolls,
The Walker Brothers,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
Jandek,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
F. McDonald,
Tropical Tobacco,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Enemy,
D'Angelo,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alton Ellis,
Sarah Menescal,
Desert Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Lindisfarne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Sherman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ornette Coleman,
The Birthday Party,
Dual Sessions,
Fad Gadget,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Junior Murvin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blancmange,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Doors,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.