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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Funky Four + One to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
David Axelrod,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mojo Men,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
Rhythm & Sound,
Qualms,
Simply Red,
Toni Rubio,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Youth Brigade,
Gichy Dan,
Roxette,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Wake,
Oblivians,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Easy Going,
Slave,
Smog,
Sonny Sharrock,
Index,
The Smiths,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-101,
Ken Boothe,
The Blackbyrds,
Aswad,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
La Düsseldorf,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arcadia,
One Last Wish,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
The Divine Comedy,
The American Breed,
Boogie Down Productions,
Albert Ayler,
The Gladiators,
Duran Duran,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.