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 South Sudan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Pussy Galore,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
The Modern Lovers,
Scrapy,
Organ,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Easy Going,
Bill Near,
Wasted Youth,
John Lydon,
Joe Smooth,
Outsiders,
Circle Jerks,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Clear Light,
Fatback Band,
Sex Pistols,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Human League,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Angry Samoans,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris Corsano,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sällskapet,
Audionom,
John Coltrane,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Max Romeo,
The Pretty Things,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
AZ,
Brass Construction,
The Sound,
Lou Christie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Altered Images,
Erasure,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Selecter,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.