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 Lebanon and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Halifax.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang Starr to the rap 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wire,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
The Cramps,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Lakeside,
Nas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cheater Slicks,
Cal Tjader,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Halsall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deepchord,
The Fuzztones,
The Count Five,
The United States of America,
Fluxion,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Model 500,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kayak,
Aswad,
Lalann,
Alison Limerick,
Organ,
Susan Cadogan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Human League,
A Certain Ratio,
Essential Logic,
Brand Nubian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New York Dolls,
The Cure,
Radiohead,
Boz Scaggs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ken Boothe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rekid,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.