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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 ABBA to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slick Rick,
Sonic Youth,
Qualms,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arab on Radar,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fugs,
David McCallum,
Shuggie Otis,
The Index,
Marine Girls,
John Holt,
Black Bananas,
Sixth Finger,
E-Dancer,
A Certain Ratio,
The Real Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deakin,
Dual Sessions,
Reuben Wilson,
Symarip,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
Bush Tetras,
T. Rex,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Hood,
Intrusion,
Shoche,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Litter,
Theoretical Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Flash Fearless,
Darondo,
Eddi Front,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yusef Lateef,
Brand Nubian,
Sun Ra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ossler,
June of 44,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Essential Logic,
Tres Demented,
Grauzone,
Can,
Cal Tjader,
Roxy Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
Goldenarms,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.