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 Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Subhumans,
Susan Cadogan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Guru Guru,
the Association,
Clear Light,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Minny Pops,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeru the Damaja,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Josef K,
Hasil Adkins,
Ten City,
DNA,
Minutemen,
Saccharine Trust,
48th St. Collective,
Amazonics,
Agitation Free,
Henry Cow,
Tom Boy,
The American Breed,
Sandy B,
Lebanon Hanover,
Danielle Patucci,
Angry Samoans,
Joensuu 1685,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cameo,
The Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Whodini,
Television Personalities,
Joe Finger,
The Stooges,
Ossler,
Bad Manners,
Kenny Larkin,
Qualms,
FM Einheit,
Black Bananas,
Fad Gadget,
The Litter,
The Human League,
Shoche,
Second Layer,
Pylon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
The Invisible,
Yellowson,
Boz Scaggs,
Wire,
Franke,
Monks,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.