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 Jordan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 D'Angelo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
the Sonics,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Tres Demented,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sound,
The Evens,
Bronski Beat,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Shuggie Otis,
Theoretical Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pantytec,
MDC,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gladiators,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Throbbing Gristle,
Lower 48,
Faraquet,
John Cale,
Ultravox,
Qualms,
The Red Krayola,
Man Eating Sloth,
Warsaw,
Popol Vuh,
Moss Icon,
The Selecter,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
The Grass Roots,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Slick Rick,
Maleditus Sound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The J.B.'s,
The United States of America,
Sixth Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
Scratch Acid,
Guru Guru,
Con Funk Shun,
La Düsseldorf,
Drexciya,
Alison Limerick,
Nils Olav,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.