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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe 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 Ronnie Foster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
Ken Boothe,
La Düsseldorf,
Circle Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Raincoats,
Quadrant,
Cal Tjader,
Dual Sessions,
JFA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anakelly,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker,
Hot Snakes,
New Age Steppers,
Skaos,
Alphaville,
Thee Headcoats,
Visage,
Mission of Burma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Khruangbin,
Derrick May,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
Kenny Larkin,
Pantytec,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gabor Szabo,
The Misunderstood,
Technova,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Arcadia,
Funkadelic,
Unwound,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Moon,
Bush Tetras,
Pussy Galore,
the Association,
Television Personalities,
Jacques Brel,
In Retrospect,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alice Coltrane,
Mark Hollis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Frankie Knuckles,
K-Klass,
Steve Hackett,
Aswad,
Mary Jane Girls,
Section 25,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.