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 Uzbekistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grunge 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Reuben Wilson,
Glenn Branca,
Albert Ayler,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Eddi Front,
Roxette,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
H. Thieme,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Moebius,
The J.B.'s,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lower 48,
Man Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
Von Mondo,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
Magma,
June Days,
Alton Ellis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sonics,
Popol Vuh,
Prince Buster,
Deakin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
Cecil Taylor,
Little Man,
Alison Limerick,
Pantytec,
Urselle,
Junior Murvin,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monochrome Set,
Matthew Halsall,
Ludus,
Loose Ends,
These Immortal Souls,
K-Klass,
Vladislav Delay,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
Sister Nancy,
DJ Sneak,
Minor Threat,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.