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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Shanghai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 The Angels of Light to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
MDC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Magma,
Swans,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Bar-Kays,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hardrive,
Black Sheep,
Eurythmics,
H. Thieme,
Ituana,
The Knickerbockers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kaleidoscope,
The Happenings,
Althea and Donna,
Pylon,
New York Dolls,
Shoche,
Moss Icon,
The Zeros,
Newcleus,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Radio Birdman,
the Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
Mission of Burma,
Zapp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Patti Smith,
Gichy Dan,
Ludus,
MC5,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Lynne,
Scion,
The Star Department,
Warren Ellis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
Ultravox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Young Rascals,
The Dave Clark Five,
Todd Terry,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.