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 Mauritania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ornette Coleman 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Cluster,
Khruangbin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vainqueur,
Graham Central Station,
Moebius,
Derrick May,
EPMD,
Camberwell Now,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Seeds,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cure,
Groovy Waters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pylon,
The Detroit Cobras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scan 7,
Don Cherry,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pere Ubu,
Josef K,
The Standells,
DJ Style,
Kaleidoscope,
Ornette Coleman,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blackbyrds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wally Richardson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
Guru Guru,
Zapp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The J.B.'s,
Hasil Adkins,
Malaria!,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Panda Bear,
48th St. Collective,
Jandek,
The Pretty Things,
Second Layer,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
Oblivians,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joey Negro,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.