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 Iceland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wells. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Marshall Jefferson,
Essential Logic,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
kango's stein massive,
Audionom,
Eli Mardock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Starr,
Sonic Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Yaz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cure,
The Grass Roots,
The Fugs,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
Terry Callier,
The Leaves,
Scion,
Easy Going,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Wake,
Nas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
Lou Christie,
The Monks,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Velvet Underground,
Bill Wells,
Gregory Isaacs,
Archie Shepp,
John Coltrane,
The Star Department,
David Axelrod,
Rufus Thomas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Index,
Rosa Yemen,
Dennis Brown,
Depeche Mode,
The Moleskins,
Carl Craig,
Simply Red,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
Jacob Miller,
Nirvana,
Lyres,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.