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 Guyana and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the techno 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
the Slits,
Neil Young,
Connie Case,
Audionom,
DJ Style,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Doors,
Yazoo,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up,
Minor Threat,
Jacques Brel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shoche,
The Golliwogs,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Lydon,
Slave,
Lucky Dragons,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
E-Dancer,
The Cure,
The Raincoats,
FM Einheit,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smiths,
The Music Machine,
Black Flag,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lalann,
Icehouse,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Negative Approach,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Robert Görl,
R.M.O.,
Tears for Fears,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Faraquet,
The Fall,
Reuben Wilson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Severed Heads,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Sheep,
Thee Headcoats,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Swans,
Japan,
John Holt,
Groovy Waters,
The Pop Group,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.