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 Palau and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Fluxion to the rock 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
The Divine Comedy,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Joe Finger,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker,
Qualms,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Absolute Body Control,
The Leaves,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Pulsallama,
Wolf Eyes,
The Toasters,
Drexciya,
Von Mondo,
Brand Nubian,
Nirvana,
The Offenders,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
Chrome,
The Slits,
Josef K,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young,
Sound Behaviour,
Mark Hollis,
Piero Umiliani,
Sister Nancy,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
Juan Atkins,
Scientists,
Ten City,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
Harry Pussy,
Eurythmics,
Flash Fearless,
Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
Wasted Youth,
Japan,
Oblivians,
Tom Boy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Vogues,
Gichy Dan,
The Human League,
Funkadelic,
Scan 7,
Groovy Waters,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.