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 Djibouti and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ken Boothe to the rock 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Susan Cadogan,
Lalann,
Arthur Verocai,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radio Birdman,
Monks,
Swell Maps,
Minor Threat,
The Techniques,
Steve Hackett,
John Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Barbara Tucker,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantaleimon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
R.M.O.,
The Last Poets,
Hardrive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter & Gordon,
Neu!,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Green,
Faust,
The Zeros,
The Sound,
Smog,
Traffic Nightmare,
Funkadelic,
Can,
Altered Images,
Simply Red,
Sandy B,
the Germs,
Mad Mike,
Camouflage,
The Modern Lovers,
Anthony Braxton,
Bush Tetras,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric Copeland,
The Sonics,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kool Moe Dee,
Groovy Waters,
cv313,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
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.