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 South Africa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Model 500 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Doors,
the Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
The Monochrome Set,
Bluetip,
Whodini,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moby Grape,
T. Rex,
Ten City,
Ralphi Rosario,
Massinfluence,
Alice Coltrane,
Janne Schatter,
Freddie Wadling,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camberwell Now,
Popol Vuh,
Cecil Taylor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fatback Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
Flash Fearless,
Mission of Burma,
Slave,
Minutemen,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Chris & Cosey,
Henry Cow,
Cymande,
The Angels of Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Durutti Column,
Reagan Youth,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Altered Images,
China Crisis,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Pus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Malaria!,
Dark Day,
Pierre Henry,
Althea and Donna,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.