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 Namibia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Roxy Music to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
ABC,
Buzzcocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Clarke,
The Five Americans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Motorama,
The Barracudas,
Boredoms,
Vladislav Delay,
Clear Light,
Television,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Ludus,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
The Wake,
New York Dolls,
Gabor Szabo,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Graham Central Station,
The Count Five,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
MC5,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Parrish,
the Slits,
Procol Harum,
Lakeside,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonic Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Teasers,
Trumans Water,
Arthur Verocai,
Scion,
Henry Cow,
The Moody Blues,
Swans,
The Moleskins,
Hashim,
David McCallum,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.