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 Kenya and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Todd Rundgren 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics,
Piero Umiliani,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Icehouse,
Essential Logic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jandek,
The Music Machine,
10cc,
These Immortal Souls,
The Associates,
The Pop Group,
Eli Mardock,
Warsaw,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tom Boy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Qualms,
Q65,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Porter Ricks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boredoms,
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Graham Central Station,
La Düsseldorf,
Wolf Eyes,
Pierre Henry,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy Collins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gladiators,
Mantronix,
Mark Hollis,
The Black Dice,
L. Decosne,
Popol Vuh,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
The Wake,
Avey Tare,
Aural Exciters,
Yazoo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Motorama,
Ornette Coleman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moleskins,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.