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 Rwanda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Grass Roots,
Rosa Yemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deakin,
Guru Guru,
Delta 5,
Lebanon Hanover,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
Ten City,
Moby Grape,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Depeche Mode,
Amon Düül,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q and Not U,
New Age Steppers,
The Martian,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ludus,
Bang On A Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Erykah Badu,
The Motions,
L. Decosne,
Moss Icon,
Johnny Clarke,
Adolescents,
The Associates,
Warren Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Zero Boys,
Sonic Youth,
Japan,
Lakeside,
Can,
New Order,
Sugar Minott,
Drexciya,
Hashim,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Unwound,
Visage,
Wally Richardson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harpers Bizarre,
Parry Music,
James White and The Blacks,
D'Angelo,
Kaleidoscope,
The Toasters,
The Slackers,
Jeff Lynne,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.