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 Uzbekistan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the grunge 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
John Cale,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
Anthony Braxton,
The Red Krayola,
8 Eyed Spy,
Motorama,
Main Source,
Pulsallama,
Wire,
Ornette Coleman,
Susan Cadogan,
Supertramp,
Radio Birdman,
Dennis Brown,
Mars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brand Nubian,
Arab on Radar,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-101,
Pharoah Sanders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
Sonny Sharrock,
Smog,
Panda Bear,
Babytalk,
Chris & Cosey,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
In Retrospect,
The Trojans,
Amazonics,
F. McDonald,
Donald Byrd,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kas Product,
June of 44,
Alton Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Rekid,
Lyres,
Yusef Lateef,
Steve Hackett,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Angry Samoans,
The Index,
Peter and Kerry,
the Swans,
Eddi Front,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.