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 Australia and from London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Connie Case to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun,
Model 500,
Drexciya,
Kaleidoscope,
Arab on Radar,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Leonard Cohen,
Freddie Wadling,
Das Ding,
Moss Icon,
The Evens,
Joe Finger,
John Coltrane,
Franke,
Liliput,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cameo,
Matthew Halsall,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Leaves,
H. Thieme,
Easy Going,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minutemen,
Negative Approach,
The Count Five,
MDC,
Heaven 17,
Rosa Yemen,
New York Dolls,
Massinfluence,
Radiopuhelimet,
Oneida,
The Smiths,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Litter,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispy Ambulance,
Audionom,
Magma,
Maleditus Sound,
Joe Smooth,
Josef K,
Alison Limerick,
Althea and Donna,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang of Four,
Funky Four + One,
Pierre Henry,
New Order,
Avey Tare,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
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.