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 Kosovo and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Judy Mowatt to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joe Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Idris Muhammad,
Sex Pistols,
The Associates,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
Popol Vuh,
Icehouse,
Public Enemy,
New York Dolls,
Ronnie Foster,
Whodini,
Lyres,
Bluetip,
The Cramps,
Minny Pops,
Danielle Patucci,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sound,
Scrapy,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
Monolake,
Terrestrial Tones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
Eric Dolphy,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Young Rascals,
Cal Tjader,
The Gap Band,
Guru Guru,
Easy Going,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fluxion,
Mars,
Gang Green,
Visage,
Michelle Simonal,
OOIOO,
The Mummies,
Subhumans,
The Invisible,
Radio Birdman,
The Monochrome Set,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.