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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Duran Duran to the funk 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ornette Coleman,
The Barracudas,
Bauhaus,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Prunes,
Nico,
Brick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Angry Samoans,
The Skatalites,
Agent Orange,
Stetsasonic,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
CMW,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jandek,
Bad Manners,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suicide,
Alison Limerick,
Boogie Down Productions,
The New Christs,
Eric Copeland,
Lalann,
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Susan Cadogan,
Aswad,
Fear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Pantaleimon,
The Smoke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
LL Cool J,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Near,
Anthony Braxton,
Circle Jerks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Foxx,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang On A Can,
Howard Jones,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
La Düsseldorf,
Tim Buckley,
Eddi Front,
Kayak,
The Neon Judgement,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.