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 India and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Mr. Review to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Rufus Thomas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Black Dice,
Joe Finger,
X-101,
Index,
Junior Murvin,
PIL,
Monolake,
The Barracudas,
Tommy Roe,
Stereo Dub,
The Red Krayola,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Foxx,
Buzzcocks,
Subhumans,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
Average White Band,
Sugar Minott,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The United States of America,
Swans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Trojans,
Dave Gahan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Simply Red,
B.T. Express,
Make Up,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Steve Hackett,
The Moody Blues,
Yaz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
Roger Hodgson,
World's Most,
Inner City,
The Motions,
Ossler,
The Real Kids,
Stiv Bators,
Sparks,
The Pretty Things,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Angels of Light,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.