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 Hungary and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Juan Atkins to the rap 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Yazoo,
Rites of Spring,
Public Enemy,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
The Fuzztones,
One Last Wish,
The Dead C,
ABBA,
Jacques Brel,
Kerri Chandler,
Aural Exciters,
The Five Americans,
Derrick May,
The Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Freddie Wadling,
Interpol,
Lalo Schifrin,
Derrick Morgan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sparks,
The Gories,
Flash Fearless,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cheater Slicks,
Davy DMX,
Maleditus Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Monks,
The Cowsills,
Barrington Levy,
John Foxx,
Los Fastidios,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Barry Ungar,
Sound Behaviour,
Curtis Mayfield,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joe Smooth,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
Moby Grape,
The Real Kids,
F. McDonald,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
JFA,
DJ Style,
Vladislav Delay,
Y Pants,
Bill Wells,
Brothers Johnson,
The Neon Judgement,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.