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 South Sudan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
the Association,
Essential Logic,
Spoonie Gee,
Hasil Adkins,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
Cymande,
Brand Nubian,
The Monks,
Procol Harum,
Black Pus,
Swell Maps,
Junior Murvin,
Pantytec,
The Cure,
Outsiders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
These Immortal Souls,
Mars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nik Kershaw,
Sight & Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brass Construction,
Eddi Front,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare,
Alphaville,
Man Parrish,
Lower 48,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
The Monochrome Set,
Rhythm & Sound,
New Order,
Marvin Gaye,
David Bowie,
The Seeds,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bauhaus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minor Threat,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Technova,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eurythmics,
Lalann,
Reagan Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Index,
Y Pants,
Alison Limerick,
Drexciya,
Simply Red,
Duran Duran,
R.M.O.,
Mandrill,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.