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 Libya and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rakim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wasted Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Roxette,
Trumans Water,
Popol Vuh,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Anakelly,
Wolf Eyes,
Fatback Band,
Skriet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Josef K,
Wire,
R.M.O.,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultimate Spinach,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suicide,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
Brothers Johnson,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
Harpers Bizarre,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ponytail,
Outsiders,
Ken Boothe,
Sight & Sound,
ABC,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moody Blues,
Ludus,
Jawbox,
Hoover,
a-ha,
The Toasters,
Simply Red,
The Flesh Eaters,
The United States of America,
cv313,
The Skatalites,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Avey Tare,
Pussy Galore,
Mantronix,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.