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 Tajikistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Cymande to the dance 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
Fugazi,
Y Pants,
Fluxion,
Ronnie Foster,
The Standells,
Rufus Thomas,
Andrew Hill,
E-Dancer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
PIL,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott Heron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chris Corsano,
MDC,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Green,
The Trojans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Near,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare,
Minutemen,
Tubeway Army,
The Buckinghams,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
Urselle,
Rhythm & Sound,
Patti Smith,
Jacques Brel,
Panda Bear,
Bang On A Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Neu!,
Niagra,
This Heat,
Matthew Halsall,
Peter and Kerry,
Mandrill,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.