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 Montenegro and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Warsaw to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Symarip,
Dual Sessions,
Joe Smooth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Desert Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Todd Terry,
Radiohead,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Hill,
The Slits,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
The Selecter,
MC5,
Skaos,
Alton Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
This Heat,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
Isaac Hayes,
The Birthday Party,
Adolescents,
Agitation Free,
ABBA,
Byron Stingily,
Fad Gadget,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
John Coltrane,
H. Thieme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alice Coltrane,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Minor Threat,
Popol Vuh,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tres Demented,
Loose Ends,
Scott Walker,
The Victims,
Subhumans,
Skriet,
Quantec,
Soft Cell,
Marvin Gaye,
Wasted Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rotary Connection,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Christie,
John Foxx,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang of Four,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.