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 Ecuador and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ronnie Foster to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Five Americans,
OOIOO,
David Axelrod,
the Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Albert Ayler,
Average White Band,
Scan 7,
kango's stein massive,
Half Japanese,
Yusef Lateef,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Camouflage,
Toni Rubio,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ponytail,
Urselle,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
Letta Mbulu,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
Nils Olav,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Saints,
The Searchers,
Warsaw,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
Janne Schatter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Raincoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Sällskapet,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
The Knickerbockers,
Scrapy,
Neil Young,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Germs,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.