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 Georgia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Residents to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Boredoms,
Hardrive,
Ohio Players,
Rakim,
Lou Reed,
Don Cherry,
The Skatalites,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
The Monochrome Set,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nico,
Andrew Hill,
T. Rex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
June of 44,
Make Up,
Bang On A Can,
Groovy Waters,
Yusef Lateef,
Liliput,
Cymande,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rites of Spring,
Infiniti,
Leonard Cohen,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
The Five Americans,
Joe Smooth,
Mars,
Shuggie Otis,
Television Personalities,
Icehouse,
UT,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Magma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bill Wells,
Ponytail,
The Remains,
Kayak,
Public Image Ltd.,
Steve Hackett,
The Blackbyrds,
Sister Nancy,
Technova,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.