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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Todd Terry to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amazonics,
The Index,
Gil Scott Heron,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Black Flag,
Mission of Burma,
Eric Dolphy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
The J.B.'s,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABC,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sam Rivers,
The Standells,
Fugazi,
Stetsasonic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neu!,
Bill Wells,
Qualms,
Sun City Girls,
The American Breed,
In Retrospect,
Juan Atkins,
Bob Dylan,
Trumans Water,
Deadbeat,
The Black Dice,
Freddie Wadling,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare,
Mantronix,
Toni Rubio,
Soul Sonic Force,
T.S.O.L.,
June of 44,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yaz,
Ten City,
Rosa Yemen,
Organ,
Yazoo,
Marc Almond,
Mark Hollis,
Cheater Slicks,
Stiv Bators,
Circle Jerks,
Ituana,
New Order,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.