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 Algeria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
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 güiro 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
Massinfluence,
Connie Case,
New York Dolls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Sneak,
Hardrive,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pantytec,
Franke,
Easy Going,
Cluster,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Sherman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Leonard Cohen,
Eli Mardock,
Soft Machine,
The Black Dice,
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
Theoretical Girls,
Marine Girls,
Aswad,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Archie Shepp,
Jacob Miller,
Cheater Slicks,
Drexciya,
In Retrospect,
Eddi Front,
D'Angelo,
Underground Resistance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Susan Cadogan,
Minny Pops,
DJ Style,
The Monks,
Shoche,
Amazonics,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
The Victims,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Clarke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neil Young,
The Litter,
The Leaves,
Joey Negro,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.