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 Serbia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
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 sitar 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 The Busters to the grunge 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
A Certain Ratio,
Nils Olav,
The Martian,
Wally Richardson,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Pus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
Hardrive,
Glenn Branca,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Fela Kuti,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
DJ Sneak,
Matthew Bourne,
Sonic Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Skriet,
Loose Ends,
OOIOO,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radiohead,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Henry Cow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Yazoo,
Livin' Joy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
Oneida,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
The Grass Roots,
Nas,
Harmonia,
Quantec,
Anakelly,
Bang On A Can,
the Human League,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rapeman,
Tres Demented,
Camberwell Now,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.