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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
The Selecter,
Symarip,
The Walker Brothers,
Liliput,
Morten Harket,
Moby Grape,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Idris Muhammad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Schoolly D,
The Angels of Light,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
New Order,
Angry Samoans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pantaleimon,
Wings,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marmalade,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
Kaleidoscope,
Rites of Spring,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Negative Approach,
Neil Young,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Motorama,
Grey Daturas,
John Lydon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Red Krayola,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kenny Larkin,
Thompson Twins,
H. Thieme,
Cal Tjader,
Ultravox,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
48th St. Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slick Rick,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mummies,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.