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 Uzbekistan and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin 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 James White and The Blacks to the grime 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
L. Decosne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bill Near,
Robert Wyatt,
Erasure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Half Japanese,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
The Monochrome Set,
Absolute Body Control,
X-102,
This Heat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tres Demented,
Harmonia,
Kayak,
Swell Maps,
Whodini,
Junior Murvin,
Magma,
The Fugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Sherman,
Crooked Eye,
The Litter,
Gang Green,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Stereo Dub,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tomorrow,
Barrington Levy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reagan Youth,
U.S. Maple,
One Last Wish,
Hoover,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Toasters,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
The Associates,
Trumans Water,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jacob Miller,
Hardrive,
Qualms,
Yusef Lateef,
Gerry Rafferty,
Duran Duran,
Gang of Four,
Brothers Johnson,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.