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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Brick 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Scion,
Man Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chris & Cosey,
Rufus Thomas,
Don Cherry,
Lightning Bolt,
Stetsasonic,
Blossom Toes,
Aural Exciters,
Ultra Naté,
Black Bananas,
David Axelrod,
Fugazi,
China Crisis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smiths,
Masters at Work,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liliput,
Cal Tjader,
CMW,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Letta Mbulu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fortunes,
Soft Machine,
Ossler,
Flash Fearless,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
Khruangbin,
Johnny Clarke,
Lungfish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deakin,
Massinfluence,
Fat Boys,
The Music Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Black Sheep,
Boredoms,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
Ronnie Foster,
Guru Guru,
The Moody Blues,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Sonics,
The Mummies,
10cc,
Motorama,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.