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 South Africa and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 The Doors to the jazz 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
Severed Heads,
The Slackers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
kango's stein massive,
Hasil Adkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
cv313,
Agent Orange,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yazoo,
The Gladiators,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
Minutemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Y Pants,
Jandek,
Shoche,
In Retrospect,
Ten City,
The Vogues,
Sandy B,
The Knickerbockers,
Skarface,
The Martian,
Drexciya,
Sonic Youth,
Oneida,
Negative Approach,
Mo-Dettes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scan 7,
Sonny Sharrock,
Qualms,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
The Zeros,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Niagra,
Wally Richardson,
Fela Kuti,
Carl Craig,
Lightning Bolt,
Underground Resistance,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sister Nancy,
Excepter,
Fat Boys,
Kayak,
Joyce Sims,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.