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 Bahamas and from Portland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Gong to the jazz 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
The Remains,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Drexciya,
Lyres,
Jeru the Damaja,
T. Rex,
Gabor Szabo,
Quantec,
June of 44,
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
Television,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Darondo,
Fear,
Cecil Taylor,
Joyce Sims,
Surgeon,
Nik Kershaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yusef Lateef,
the Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barry Ungar,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Piero Umiliani,
New Order,
MC5,
Wings,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Gang Dance,
World's Most,
Motorama,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ituana,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brick,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
E-Dancer,
B.T. Express,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.