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 Turkmenistan 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 The United States of America to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Jeff Mills,
H. Thieme,
David Axelrod,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Carl Craig,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lungfish,
The Wake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Supertramp,
10cc,
Flamin' Groovies,
Schoolly D,
Cal Tjader,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Connie Case,
Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moebius,
Mark Hollis,
John Coltrane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Banda Bassotti,
Sex Pistols,
The Young Rascals,
Neu!,
Camberwell Now,
Black Moon,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang of Four,
Sugar Minott,
Peter & Gordon,
the Association,
Lindisfarne,
June of 44,
Japan,
Underground Resistance,
Harpers Bizarre,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster,
ABBA,
Fear,
The Associates,
CMW,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
kango's stein massive,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
China Crisis,
Zero Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arcadia,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.