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 Slovakia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Model 500 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Prince Buster,
Anthony Braxton,
Subhumans,
Donald Byrd,
X-102,
The Remains,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oneida,
Outsiders,
Pantaleimon,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras,
Godley & Creme,
Isaac Hayes,
Talk Talk,
Procol Harum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Icehouse,
the Normal,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Don Cherry,
The Real Kids,
The Saints,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Motions,
The Toasters,
B.T. Express,
Liliput,
Joe Finger,
Spandau Ballet,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Starr,
Crash Course in Science,
Whodini,
Inner City,
Nick Fraelich,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Sherman,
The Victims,
John Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
The Moody Blues,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultravox,
Peter & Gordon,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
CMW,
Barrington Levy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Amazonics,
Fat Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.