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 Thailand and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marvin Gaye to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Bauhaus,
Erasure,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Green,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mo-Dettes,
Amazonics,
The Skatalites,
ABC,
Rekid,
Flash Fearless,
Jacques Brel,
Sun Ra,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
Aswad,
June Days,
Todd Rundgren,
Brick,
The Zeros,
John Coltrane,
Deakin,
Slave,
The Evens,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras,
Icehouse,
Wire,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barry Ungar,
Pierre Henry,
Swell Maps,
Television Personalities,
The Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Radiohead,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
Joe Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spoonie Gee,
Oneida,
H. Thieme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
In Retrospect,
Qualms,
Bronski Beat,
Junior Murvin,
Shoche,
Kool Moe Dee,
Au Pairs,
Surgeon,
Brass Construction,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nas,
Sound Behaviour,
Laurel Aitken,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.