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 Guinea-Bissau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare 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 David Axelrod to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
Peter and Kerry,
Morten Harket,
Eric Dolphy,
AZ,
Joe Finger,
Susan Cadogan,
Mission of Burma,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sound Behaviour,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Monochrome Set,
Agitation Free,
Gil Scott Heron,
Depeche Mode,
Flash Fearless,
X-101,
Jerry's Kids,
Warsaw,
Josef K,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Clarke,
Maleditus Sound,
cv313,
Siglo XX,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mark Hollis,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
Marine Girls,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
the Bar-Kays,
ABC,
Faust,
Unwound,
Althea and Donna,
B.T. Express,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barry Ungar,
Barrington Levy,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visage,
Kayak,
Ultra Naté,
New Order,
Gastr Del Sol,
Reuben Wilson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bob Dylan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cal Tjader,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.