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 Malawi and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Electric Prunes,
Negative Approach,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lower 48,
Moebius,
Eli Mardock,
Iggy Pop,
Theoretical Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
Wasted Youth,
The Gap Band,
Model 500,
Erasure,
Alice Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
The Young Rascals,
Pere Ubu,
Unwound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare,
The Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
The Seeds,
The Happenings,
Kas Product,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonic Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Crash Course in Science,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Barracudas,
The Victims,
Aswad,
The Raincoats,
Masters at Work,
Harpers Bizarre,
Saccharine Trust,
The Shadows of Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
Ohio Players,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
AZ,
Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
The Last Poets,
Terry Callier,
Flash Fearless,
Ponytail,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.