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 Yemen and from London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Pantytec to the rap 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '80s.
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 The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Pet Shop Boys,
The United States of America,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Agent Orange,
Procol Harum,
Aloha Tigers,
The Techniques,
Second Layer,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Robert Görl,
Chris & Cosey,
Easy Going,
Cecil Taylor,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust,
The Mummies,
La Düsseldorf,
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Ludus,
Arthur Verocai,
Scott Walker,
Throbbing Gristle,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Pretty Things,
Laurel Aitken,
Mandrill,
Goldenarms,
E-Dancer,
The Cure,
Youth Brigade,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fire Engines,
Television Personalities,
Mr. Review,
Fugazi,
Liliput,
The Barracudas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Saccharine Trust,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minnie Riperton,
Von Mondo,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bauhaus,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
FM Einheit,
Rekid,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Massinfluence,
Little Man,
Trumans Water,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.