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 India 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brass Construction to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
MC5,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
Yusef Lateef,
Dave Gahan,
The Evens,
Jandek,
Jacques Brel,
The Dirtbombs,
The Monochrome Set,
Moby Grape,
The Vogues,
Index,
The Cure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
K-Klass,
The Beau Brummels,
Lindisfarne,
The Searchers,
Cal Tjader,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lower 48,
The Grass Roots,
Mission of Burma,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scrapy,
Michelle Simonal,
The Victims,
Robert Görl,
Alton Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minnie Riperton,
Pussy Galore,
Scientists,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Womack,
X-101,
Albert Ayler,
Sparks,
Qualms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Talk Talk,
Pylon,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
Negative Approach,
Fear,
Ultravox,
the Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Music Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun City Girls,
Connie Case,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.