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 Tanzania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ten City to the punk 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Count Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Donald Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
Deakin,
Tommy Roe,
Index,
Marmalade,
Wasted Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Style,
R.M.O.,
Barry Ungar,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joyce Sims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Green,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blake Baxter,
In Retrospect,
Neil Young,
Bobby Byrd,
Rosa Yemen,
Yellowson,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
UT,
These Immortal Souls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
Rekid,
Organ,
Lyres,
Jacques Brel,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Slackers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scan 7,
Howard Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
Rotary Connection,
Ohio Players,
8 Eyed Spy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.