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 Tajikistan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Misunderstood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Seeds,
Peter and Kerry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Newcleus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Wolf Eyes,
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
Marine Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül II,
Kurtis Blow,
Flipper,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Wyatt,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
Circle Jerks,
The Searchers,
Todd Rundgren,
The Smoke,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
Robert Görl,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lakeside,
Absolute Body Control,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
cv313,
Warsaw,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Model 500,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Simply Red,
Surgeon,
The Blues Magoos,
Suicide,
Funkadelic,
Blossom Toes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Television Personalities,
Faraquet,
Arcadia,
The Blackbyrds,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Hill,
CMW,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.