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 Eritrea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Buzzcocks to the rock 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
The Birthday Party,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Niagra,
the Human League,
Kevin Saunderson,
Index,
Sun City Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swans,
Sex Pistols,
The Fire Engines,
The Raincoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Doors,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slave,
Anthony Braxton,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Doobie Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sonics,
ABBA,
Half Japanese,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Michelle Simonal,
Boredoms,
Black Sheep,
Supertramp,
The Skatalites,
The Barracudas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Liliput,
Don Cherry,
Hasil Adkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deakin,
Andrew Hill,
Kurtis Blow,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Scrapy,
Dark Day,
Lungfish,
the Germs,
The Motions,
The Vogues,
The Walker Brothers,
The Standells,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smoke,
Organ,
Kaleidoscope,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Pretty Things,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Smooth,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.