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 Eritrea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 the Sonics to the grime 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Aural Exciters,
Bill Wells,
The Doobie Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
The Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Darondo,
Half Japanese,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lalann,
Ornette Coleman,
Michelle Simonal,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gabor Szabo,
Wasted Youth,
Toni Rubio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Siglo XX,
Quando Quango,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang of Four,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Nirvana,
Echospace,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stiv Bators,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Isaac Hayes,
The Doors,
Panda Bear,
The Monochrome Set,
The Residents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sister Nancy,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Joe Smooth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Cluster,
Johnny Clarke,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
Scientists,
The Human League,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.