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 Azerbaijan and from London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris 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 organ 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grunge 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Nils Olav,
Spoonie Gee,
Don Cherry,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gap Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masters at Work,
R.M.O.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
Johnny Osbourne,
Basic Channel,
Roger Hodgson,
Babytalk,
Los Fastidios,
Janne Schatter,
Archie Shepp,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Names,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Porter Ricks,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ponytail,
Kayak,
The Smiths,
Absolute Body Control,
Prince Buster,
Aaron Thompson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mr. Review,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Funky Four + One,
Brick,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Sneak,
Marvin Gaye,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Khruangbin,
Scan 7,
Sun Ra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.