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 Congo and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Yusef Lateef to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ice-T,
Lungfish,
The Evens,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
Prince Buster,
Blossom Toes,
Funkadelic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang On A Can,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
Albert Ayler,
Mandrill,
X-Ray Spex,
Dead Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heaven 17,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yaz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Bowie,
Suicide,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Procol Harum,
Half Japanese,
The Smoke,
Max Romeo,
Stereo Dub,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Nirvana,
Jawbox,
Los Fastidios,
Quadrant,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boredoms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pantytec,
The Moleskins,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Near,
Alison Limerick,
The Divine Comedy,
Porter Ricks,
The Skatalites,
Aswad,
Reagan Youth,
Kas Product,
Sarah Menescal,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.