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 Tuvalu and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Heaven 17,
Groovy Waters,
Man Parrish,
Essential Logic,
The Durutti Column,
Schoolly D,
Fugazi,
Negative Approach,
Eddi Front,
Babytalk,
Fad Gadget,
ABC,
The Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ohio Players,
The Wake,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
The Names,
Gong,
The Smiths,
Pierre Henry,
Ronnie Foster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rakim,
Jandek,
Das Ding,
Faust,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alphaville,
Bobby Womack,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lungfish,
The Busters,
Bluetip,
Lyres,
Max Romeo,
Motorama,
Sarah Menescal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kas Product,
Anakelly,
Deadbeat,
Rekid,
Siglo XX,
Kurtis Blow,
Minny Pops,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.