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 Cuba and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the punk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
Malaria!,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
Derrick May,
The Five Americans,
Stetsasonic,
Kurtis Blow,
Dave Gahan,
The Red Krayola,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare,
Oneida,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eli Mardock,
The Mummies,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blossom Toes,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABBA,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Main Source,
The Standells,
Reagan Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Infiniti,
One Last Wish,
the Normal,
Jeff Lynne,
Carl Craig,
Boredoms,
Harry Pussy,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dennis Brown,
The Monochrome Set,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Evens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra,
Ten City,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.