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 Iran and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Lungfish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camouflage,
Radio Birdman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Royal Trux,
Soul II Soul,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Lynne,
Toni Rubio,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Alison Limerick,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Porter Ricks,
Mr. Review,
Henry Cow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Supertramp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eden Ahbez,
Moby Grape,
Arcadia,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stetsasonic,
The Moleskins,
Sexual Harrassment,
L. Decosne,
The Vogues,
Goldenarms,
Adolescents,
48th St. Collective,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ossler,
Roger Hodgson,
CMW,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Starr,
The Cowsills,
Dark Day,
Animal Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
Pulsallama,
Sister Nancy,
Sam Rivers,
Theoretical Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Donny Hathaway,
David Axelrod,
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.