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 Denmark and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet 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 FM Einheit to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Anakelly,
D'Angelo,
Silicon Teens,
Lalann,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fuzztones,
Country Teasers,
Vladislav Delay,
Darondo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Steve Hackett,
Aloha Tigers,
Juan Atkins,
The Cramps,
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
John Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
World's Most,
The Gap Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q65,
Black Pus,
Urselle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mr. Review,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
Wings,
Derrick Morgan,
Hot Snakes,
the Normal,
Procol Harum,
the Bar-Kays,
Carl Craig,
the Slits,
Sonny Sharrock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
10cc,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
Gong,
Metal Thangz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Khruangbin,
Spoonie Gee,
Fluxion,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
UT,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.