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 Mongolia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Human League to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
OOIOO,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rites of Spring,
The Standells,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
The Mummies,
Jawbox,
Babytalk,
The Golliwogs,
Reagan Youth,
Youth Brigade,
The Young Rascals,
Grauzone,
Technova,
Monks,
Easy Going,
Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tres Demented,
Sam Rivers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slits,
FM Einheit,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
Charles Mingus,
Thompson Twins,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Leonard Cohen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yellowson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quando Quango,
The American Breed,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fall,
H. Thieme,
These Immortal Souls,
Magazine,
Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
World's Most,
Organ,
Minutemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Invisible,
Eli Mardock,
Q65,
Dave Gahan,
The Moody Blues,
Skarface,
John Holt,
Hardrive,
Guru Guru,
Chrome,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.