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 Guyana and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Eddi Front to the dance 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Wire,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
Chrome,
China Crisis,
Intrusion,
Magazine,
Deakin,
The Zeros,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
L. Decosne,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun Ra,
Absolute Body Control,
Minny Pops,
James White and The Blacks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantytec,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Pere Ubu,
The Star Department,
Crime,
Suicide,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Scott Walker,
Sällskapet,
Vladislav Delay,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
Alison Limerick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thee Headcoats,
Funkadelic,
The Real Kids,
Sixth Finger,
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brass Construction,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joey Negro,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suburban Knight,
Hot Snakes,
Aaron Thompson,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.