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 Cambodia and from London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 H. Thieme to the rock 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
AZ,
Chris Corsano,
Von Mondo,
Ten City,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gichy Dan,
Ponytail,
Black Moon,
Deadbeat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sarah Menescal,
Blancmange,
One Last Wish,
Wally Richardson,
Lower 48,
Don Cherry,
Smog,
Pere Ubu,
Bad Manners,
PIL,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Five Americans,
The Victims,
Scan 7,
Television Personalities,
Godley & Creme,
Laurel Aitken,
In Retrospect,
Jacob Miller,
Groovy Waters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ludus,
the Sonics,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Dolphy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Magazine,
Black Flag,
The Invisible,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
R.M.O.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Easy Going,
Guru Guru,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Mills,
Fluxion,
Josef K,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.