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 Guatemala and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Brothers Johnson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Lyres,
Sugar Minott,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
The Searchers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Prunes,
Amazonics,
Main Source,
Matthew Bourne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Radio Birdman,
Youth Brigade,
June of 44,
Animal Collective,
Pantaleimon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Underground Resistance,
The Martian,
Swans,
DJ Sneak,
The Moody Blues,
Fad Gadget,
Average White Band,
Outsiders,
Blake Baxter,
Prince Buster,
Bill Wells,
Ronan,
Gang of Four,
Metal Thangz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Amon Düül II,
Crispy Ambulance,
Royal Trux,
Subhumans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Smog,
Mantronix,
Byron Stingily,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Litter,
Flash Fearless,
Rites of Spring,
AZ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aloha Tigers,
Stereo Dub,
Josef K,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Starr,
Thompson Twins,
Pagans,
U.S. Maple,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.