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 Tunisia and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Harpers Bizarre to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joe Finger,
Todd Rundgren,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Wake,
Joyce Sims,
Lightning Bolt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scratch Acid,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hoover,
Jandek,
Ornette Coleman,
Young Marble Giants,
Drexciya,
Crash Course in Science,
Rosa Yemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Bar-Kays,
The Last Poets,
Jawbox,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
The Tremeloes,
Camberwell Now,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
kango's stein massive,
Black Pus,
K-Klass,
Ponytail,
T. Rex,
The Sound,
Talk Talk,
Agitation Free,
The Monochrome Set,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harry Pussy,
The Dirtbombs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Slick Rick,
Ronan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun Ra,
The Knickerbockers,
The Associates,
Aural Exciters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Buckinghams,
Outsiders,
R.M.O.,
Amon Düül II,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.