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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Lou Reed 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bush Tetras,
Arcadia,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cure,
Skaos,
The Invisible,
Junior Murvin,
The Gun Club,
Subhumans,
Gong,
Skriet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Laurel Aitken,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Intrusion,
Babytalk,
Brand Nubian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harry Pussy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Saints,
Fat Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
John Cale,
The Dead C,
The Kinks,
The Skatalites,
Groovy Waters,
the Swans,
The Index,
New Age Steppers,
Duran Duran,
Sam Rivers,
Swell Maps,
Q and Not U,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mad Mike,
Roger Hodgson,
Letta Mbulu,
Sandy B,
Lalann,
Talk Talk,
The Gories,
Cecil Taylor,
Amon Düül II,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sarah Menescal,
EPMD,
Sparks,
Deakin,
Roxy Music,
Yazoo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sonics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.