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 Uruguay and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Boogie Down Productions to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Khruangbin,
Laurel Aitken,
Lindisfarne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Accadde A,
Underground Resistance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Rosa Yemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Patti Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Alison Limerick,
Altered Images,
Ultravox,
Tubeway Army,
Warsaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
OOIOO,
Jerry's Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yaz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minny Pops,
Chris & Cosey,
John Coltrane,
Cheater Slicks,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roxy Music,
Fat Boys,
the Slits,
The Moleskins,
John Cale,
Au Pairs,
Country Teasers,
Don Cherry,
Joy Division,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Derrick Morgan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Severed Heads,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jawbox,
the Germs,
Hoover,
Hashim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bootsy Collins,
Harry Pussy,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.