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 Uruguay and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Ralphi Rosario,
Index,
Zero Boys,
Wire,
Sixth Finger,
New Age Steppers,
The Cramps,
Radiohead,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tears for Fears,
Scrapy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Rod Modell,
Mark Hollis,
Hasil Adkins,
Anthony Braxton,
The Invisible,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faraquet,
Marmalade,
KRS-One,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Osbourne,
World's Most,
Rakim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grey Daturas,
The Pretty Things,
Cluster,
Model 500,
Gil Scott Heron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Reed,
Reuben Wilson,
Susan Cadogan,
Con Funk Shun,
Buzzcocks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
D'Angelo,
DJ Style,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scientists,
Procol Harum,
Terry Callier,
Roxette,
Mantronix,
Pole,
Bronski Beat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glenn Branca,
Alton Ellis,
Guru Guru,
Kaleidoscope,
Aaron Thompson,
Slick Rick,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.