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 Azerbaijan and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Sun City Girls to the electroclash 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Raincoats,
Ronan,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
Soul II Soul,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stetsasonic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mr. Review,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rod Modell,
Magma,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
Yusef Lateef,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
The Evens,
Surgeon,
Scratch Acid,
Fad Gadget,
X-101,
Los Fastidios,
Theoretical Girls,
The Skatalites,
Judy Mowatt,
Essential Logic,
EPMD,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cymande,
The Saints,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Yaz,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
Derrick Morgan,
The Wake,
Whodini,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camouflage,
Con Funk Shun,
Glenn Branca,
MC5,
The Move,
Angry Samoans,
Deadbeat,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Neu!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Infiniti,
The Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gichy Dan,
Dual Sessions,
Outsiders,
Barry Ungar,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.