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 Barbados and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Sixth Finger to the jazz 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
DJ Sneak,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
Barry Ungar,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultra Naté,
New Age Steppers,
The Sound,
Deakin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camberwell Now,
Funky Four + One,
Basic Channel,
Index,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Los Fastidios,
Zapp,
JFA,
The Cure,
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
The Happenings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scratch Acid,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Flag,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
La Düsseldorf,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fluxion,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
AZ,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fela Kuti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Judy Mowatt,
Eddi Front,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
PIL,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
Glenn Branca,
Lakeside,
Scion,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.