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 Estonia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wolf Eyes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacob Miller,
Pole,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mission of Burma,
Television,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Simply Red,
Robert Hood,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amazonics,
Rekid,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Japan,
Rakim,
Rapeman,
Urselle,
Shoche,
Roger Hodgson,
Chris Corsano,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
Grauzone,
Oneida,
Delta 5,
Stereo Dub,
The Golliwogs,
Television Personalities,
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Procol Harum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Evens,
Ohio Players,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Piero Umiliani,
FM Einheit,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers,
Ken Boothe,
Tears for Fears,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
Altered Images,
The Young Rascals,
Make Up,
Jerry's Kids,
Colin Newman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Zeros,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.