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 Nicaragua and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gang of Four to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
The Toasters,
Cal Tjader,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Franke,
Wally Richardson,
Danielle Patucci,
Deadbeat,
Scan 7,
Thompson Twins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yellowson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dead C,
Icehouse,
Eve St. Jones,
Sparks,
Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Scion,
Sight & Sound,
Morten Harket,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Clear Light,
The Beau Brummels,
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Young Marble Giants,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed,
Rufus Thomas,
One Last Wish,
Stiv Bators,
Scott Walker,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yusef Lateef,
AZ,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pylon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
In Retrospect,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Letta Mbulu,
Soul II Soul,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
Flipper,
Fugazi,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oneida,
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.