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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Derrick Morgan to the grime 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Freddie Wadling,
the Germs,
X-102,
Von Mondo,
The Leaves,
Bluetip,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dirtbombs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra,
Unwound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Standells,
Anthony Braxton,
Judy Mowatt,
The Misunderstood,
Erykah Badu,
Blake Baxter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick May,
Tommy Roe,
Thee Headcoats,
Audionom,
The Five Americans,
Yazoo,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Pop Group,
Althea and Donna,
Soulsonic Force,
Peter and Kerry,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mojo Men,
The Stooges,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Babytalk,
Alice Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
Second Layer,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Dual Sessions,
Kaleidoscope,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-Ray Spex,
The Selecter,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
Alison Limerick,
Sällskapet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.