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 Yemen and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lucky Dragons to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 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?
Icehouse,
JFA,
Amazonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
Aloha Tigers,
Talk Talk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
Babytalk,
Donald Byrd,
Zero Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sex Pistols,
The Angels of Light,
the Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swell Maps,
FM Einheit,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion,
Nick Fraelich,
The Durutti Column,
Lakeside,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Man Parrish,
The Doors,
Tubeway Army,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
The Gories,
Khruangbin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül II,
The New Christs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Silicon Teens,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grey Daturas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Liliput,
Parry Music,
Don Cherry,
Groovy Waters,
Skarface,
Lightning Bolt,
One Last Wish,
Nas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sugar Minott,
The Selecter,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.