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 Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Cheater Slicks to the grunge 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
the Normal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Supertramp,
Donny Hathaway,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cal Tjader,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
The American Breed,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brand Nubian,
Eddi Front,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Wake,
The Fire Engines,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mantronix,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scan 7,
The Names,
Bootsy Collins,
Young Marble Giants,
DNA,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
Andrew Hill,
Tommy Roe,
Quando Quango,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Theoretical Girls,
Josef K,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boogie Down Productions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Severed Heads,
U.S. Maple,
Model 500,
T. Rex,
The Raincoats,
Ronan,
Black Sheep,
Ten City,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Busters,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Public Image Ltd.,
Isaac Hayes,
Tom Boy,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
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.