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 Haiti and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jeff Mills to the funk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
CMW,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
Quadrant,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donny Hathaway,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eve St. Jones,
The Music Machine,
Nas,
The Misunderstood,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mission of Burma,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Andrew Hill,
The Motions,
Royal Trux,
The Angels of Light,
The Standells,
Pere Ubu,
The Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Sugar Minott,
Roger Hodgson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
These Immortal Souls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kayak,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Procol Harum,
Smog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Trojans,
KRS-One,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scott Walker,
Absolute Body Control,
Cybotron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dead C,
L. Decosne,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Excepter,
Ralphi Rosario,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
Urselle,
Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.