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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Jerry's Kids to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Gang Dance,
R.M.O.,
The Martian,
Deepchord,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
Black Sheep,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Max Romeo,
Parry Music,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rekid,
Avey Tare,
Darondo,
The Slackers,
Brothers Johnson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Maurizio,
Dark Day,
Jacques Brel,
MDC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
the Bar-Kays,
Basic Channel,
Davy DMX,
Cecil Taylor,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aswad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Womack,
The Monks,
The Toasters,
F. McDonald,
Ohio Players,
Ossler,
The Neon Judgement,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Skatalites,
The Young Rascals,
Prince Buster,
Panda Bear,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tim Buckley,
Lalo Schifrin,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
Bobby Byrd,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.