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 Moldova and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Pierre Henry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cramps,
June of 44,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes,
The Gladiators,
Chris Corsano,
Goldenarms,
Mad Mike,
ABC,
Marcia Griffiths,
Funky Four + One,
The Skatalites,
The Durutti Column,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unrelated Segments,
Patti Smith,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
Deakin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
Los Fastidios,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
Byron Stingily,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Litter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kurtis Blow,
Ossler,
the Normal,
Spandau Ballet,
Symarip,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantytec,
World's Most,
The Trojans,
Clear Light,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Sound Behaviour,
Pole,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
Hot Snakes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Pretty Things,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Fad Gadget,
The Dead C,
Archie Shepp,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.