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 Belarus and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Outsiders to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
OOIOO,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Jeff Mills,
Cecil Taylor,
Index,
Babytalk,
The Cure,
The Vogues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rod Modell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doors,
Maurizio,
The Red Krayola,
The American Breed,
Flipper,
Gabor Szabo,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Visage,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Byrd,
Darondo,
Gang of Four,
Animal Collective,
The Count Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Zeros,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
Neil Young,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
This Heat,
The Fuzztones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Talk Talk,
Maleditus Sound,
Rotary Connection,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scratch Acid,
Essential Logic,
Harmonia,
Warsaw,
Jawbox,
Make Up,
Y Pants,
UT,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
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.