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 Fiji and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smog to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
The Skatalites,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
AZ,
The Pretty Things,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Walker Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Monolake,
Rites of Spring,
Pet Shop Boys,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
Amon Düül,
CMW,
Grauzone,
Jeff Lynne,
Animal Collective,
Lungfish,
Urselle,
Von Mondo,
D'Angelo,
Boz Scaggs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dark Day,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glambeats Corp.,
Basic Channel,
Minnie Riperton,
Franke,
Judy Mowatt,
X-Ray Spex,
The Count Five,
Talk Talk,
Swans,
Al Stewart,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sister Nancy,
Motorama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Max Romeo,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra,
Joey Negro,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Funky Four + One,
Essential Logic,
Soulsonic Force,
Whodini,
Inner City,
The Monochrome Set,
Kenny Larkin,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.