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 Cambodia and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 World's Most to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Motions,
L. Decosne,
Swell Maps,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacob Miller,
Talk Talk,
Eve St. Jones,
The Happenings,
Rufus Thomas,
Pere Ubu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
Franke,
Juan Atkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Kurtis Blow,
OOIOO,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
48th St. Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bootsy Collins,
LL Cool J,
Shoche,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Tommy Roe,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
Mo-Dettes,
The Martian,
Dennis Brown,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Moody Blues,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
Harmonia,
Sällskapet,
Marc Almond,
Eddi Front,
Rotary Connection,
the Association,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Fad Gadget,
Alice Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Rapeman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Goldenarms,
Al Stewart,
Aloha Tigers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quantec,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.