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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The Motions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rakim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minnie Riperton,
Rotary Connection,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
The Invisible,
Quantec,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fad Gadget,
Parry Music,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jawbox,
Spandau Ballet,
a-ha,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Skarface,
The Seeds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Max Romeo,
Masters at Work,
Eric Dolphy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Birthday Party,
The Walker Brothers,
The American Breed,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Todd Rundgren,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Los Fastidios,
The Fire Engines,
Ornette Coleman,
Au Pairs,
Toni Rubio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fear,
Ohio Players,
Reuben Wilson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
Lakeside,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fortunes,
Pere Ubu,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Television Personalities,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.