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 Barbados and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the funk 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Depeche Mode,
Cameo,
Kurtis Blow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
Suicide,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
John Cale,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Names,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül,
DJ Style,
The Real Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alice Coltrane,
Simply Red,
The Index,
The Victims,
Nico,
DJ Sneak,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
The Trojans,
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
Glenn Branca,
Cheater Slicks,
Excepter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mandrill,
Laurel Aitken,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Easy Going,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius,
Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.