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 Seychelles and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Brass Construction to the crunk 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Associates,
Das Ding,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
The Evens,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lakeside,
Section 25,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Visage,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
Harry Pussy,
Camberwell Now,
Gastr Del Sol,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monolake,
X-101,
Lungfish,
Marc Almond,
Scan 7,
The Music Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
Bill Near,
Groovy Waters,
Japan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Sällskapet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Malaria!,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masters at Work,
Mandrill,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
Robert Görl,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bush Tetras,
The Tremeloes,
Soulsonic Force,
Brass Construction,
Aural Exciters,
Lucky Dragons,
EPMD,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
Chrome,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.