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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roger Hodgson,
Rod Modell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angry Samoans,
MDC,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maurizio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Pop Group,
Mission of Burma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Misunderstood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Little Man,
Ice-T,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Womack,
The United States of America,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doors,
Harry Pussy,
The Cure,
Alice Coltrane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David Bowie,
Fear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fad Gadget,
Delta 5,
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Modern Lovers,
Juan Atkins,
Absolute Body Control,
The Real Kids,
Surgeon,
Rotary Connection,
The Index,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Stooges,
The Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Motions,
Steve Hackett,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang of Four,
The Happenings,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.