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 Serbia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
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 marimba 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
Depeche Mode,
The Mighty Diamonds,
D'Angelo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Japan,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-102,
Man Parrish,
Wings,
Graham Central Station,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
Inner City,
Funkadelic,
The Stooges,
the Human League,
Junior Murvin,
Ultra Naté,
The Raincoats,
These Immortal Souls,
MC5,
Hoover,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tropical Tobacco,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-101,
the Germs,
Khruangbin,
Ohio Players,
Minor Threat,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mr. Review,
UT,
The Slits,
Max Romeo,
Susan Cadogan,
Agitation Free,
Robert Görl,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boz Scaggs,
Lower 48,
Technova,
Oneida,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Hill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.