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 Bulgaria and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Knickerbockers to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Busters,
Mad Mike,
The Fuzztones,
Skriet,
Jimmy McGriff,
La Düsseldorf,
Dual Sessions,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Nas,
Slave,
Mr. Review,
Rod Modell,
Popol Vuh,
Blancmange,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
EPMD,
Rites of Spring,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Public Enemy,
Silicon Teens,
Mantronix,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Byron Stingily,
Con Funk Shun,
The Moleskins,
Carl Craig,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Zeros,
DJ Sneak,
Accadde A,
Sällskapet,
The Tremeloes,
Section 25,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thompson Twins,
The Mojo Men,
Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Adolescents,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Dolphy,
Crime,
Clear Light,
Lalann,
Fear,
Lyres,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pierre Henry,
Davy DMX,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.