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 Botswana and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 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?
Yellowson,
Outsiders,
The Knickerbockers,
Trumans Water,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Interpol,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Near,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Smog,
The Toasters,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Little Man,
Bobby Womack,
Reuben Wilson,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Foxx,
Piero Umiliani,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
Danielle Patucci,
Ornette Coleman,
Yusef Lateef,
The Music Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Axelrod,
Jandek,
kango's stein massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Con Funk Shun,
Franke,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Talk Talk,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Crooked Eye,
Archie Shepp,
Absolute Body Control,
Negative Approach,
The Martian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Popol Vuh,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Colin Newman,
CMW,
the Human League,
MC5,
Lalo Schifrin,
E-Dancer,
Fat Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roxy Music,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.