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 Greece and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Busters,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
This Heat,
The Associates,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arthur Verocai,
Scrapy,
Althea and Donna,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
Tomorrow,
Slick Rick,
Parry Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Piero Umiliani,
Electric Prunes,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Don Cherry,
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
Magma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Laurel Aitken,
Sällskapet,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
Niagra,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Shadows of Knight,
D'Angelo,
The Gladiators,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Altered Images,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Essential Logic,
David McCallum,
Pole,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Maurizio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Order,
The Walker Brothers,
Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
Eric Copeland,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.