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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roy Ayers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Ohio Players,
Glambeats Corp.,
Agitation Free,
Khruangbin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Wells,
Motorama,
Yaz,
Chris & Cosey,
David Axelrod,
Davy DMX,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
Darondo,
Eric Dolphy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Finger,
LL Cool J,
Main Source,
The Fuzztones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Graham Central Station,
Bush Tetras,
Scrapy,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
Hardrive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unwound,
Banda Bassotti,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
Rites of Spring,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.