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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Skatalites 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
David Axelrod,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fear,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joensuu 1685,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eden Ahbez,
Agent Orange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Human League,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
Max Romeo,
Minny Pops,
Arab on Radar,
The Blackbyrds,
Hoover,
Cecil Taylor,
A Certain Ratio,
Average White Band,
Darondo,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang of Four,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Clarke,
Blake Baxter,
Icehouse,
Juan Atkins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marc Almond,
Flipper,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-102,
Technova,
Jeff Lynne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Whodini,
Althea and Donna,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
Michelle Simonal,
the Human League,
Zero Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Negative Approach,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.