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 Kenya and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Cell to the crunk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Iggy Pop,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
MC5,
Unrelated Segments,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eve St. Jones,
The Trojans,
Depeche Mode,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeff Lynne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Magma,
Ohio Players,
The Angels of Light,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Michelle Simonal,
Intrusion,
U.S. Maple,
Nas,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Junior Murvin,
Y Pants,
The United States of America,
The Doors,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dual Sessions,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Danielle Patucci,
Donald Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tres Demented,
Prince Buster,
Infiniti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxy Music,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Five Americans,
China Crisis,
Ponytail,
The Human League,
The Saints,
Zapp,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed,
The Pop Group,
The Remains,
Symarip,
Visage,
Boogie Down Productions,
Piero Umiliani,
Dark Day,
Maurizio,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.