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 Argentina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar 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 Slick Rick to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Hardrive,
Michelle Simonal,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Nik Kershaw,
The Electric Prunes,
Scratch Acid,
Laurel Aitken,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dennis Brown,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Flesh Eaters,
Visage,
Cybotron,
A Certain Ratio,
Smog,
The Martian,
Pantaleimon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun City Girls,
Yazoo,
Hashim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soulsonic Force,
Grauzone,
Amazonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nils Olav,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Style,
kango's stein massive,
Neil Young,
Nick Fraelich,
Essential Logic,
Robert Wyatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Drexciya,
Scrapy,
The Blues Magoos,
Ken Boothe,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
The Last Poets,
Quando Quango,
Basic Channel,
The Selecter,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
Agent Orange,
Urselle,
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
X-101,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Busters,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.