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 Uganda and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Morten Harket to the grime 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
The Angels of Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Schoolly D,
Suicide,
Mr. Review,
Boredoms,
Peter and Kerry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station,
The Busters,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
June of 44,
Unrelated Segments,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül II,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fugazi,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
The Human League,
The Vogues,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
The Misunderstood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Banda Bassotti,
Dennis Brown,
Altered Images,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Connie Case,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eddi Front,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Josef K,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
Steve Hackett,
OOIOO,
Silicon Teens,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacob Miller,
Sparks,
Barry Ungar,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.