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 Mozambique and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tres Demented to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Scott Walker,
Fluxion,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Osbourne,
H. Thieme,
Barclay James Harvest,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Accadde A,
Brand Nubian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thee Headcoats,
The Martian,
Fatback Band,
Yellowson,
MDC,
The Busters,
the Swans,
Black Flag,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
Porter Ricks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deakin,
48th St. Collective,
The Wake,
Moss Icon,
Iggy Pop,
Das Ding,
New York Dolls,
Altered Images,
The Skatalites,
Television Personalities,
The Barracudas,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Maleditus Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Mo-Dettes,
Freddie Wadling,
Country Teasers,
Faust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Moody Blues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Godley & Creme,
The Offenders,
Slick Rick,
The Toasters,
Nils Olav,
Section 25,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Sherman,
Dawn Penn,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry's Kids,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.