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 Colombia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Man Parrish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brass Construction,
Dawn Penn,
Funkadelic,
Skriet,
Gang Starr,
The Invisible,
Arab on Radar,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Agent Orange,
Tubeway Army,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Surgeon,
Tom Boy,
The Names,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Wells,
The Stooges,
Ice-T,
Au Pairs,
Black Sheep,
Donny Hathaway,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Glambeats Corp.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scrapy,
Barbara Tucker,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Terry,
Half Japanese,
Pulsallama,
Thee Headcoats,
Urselle,
Chris Corsano,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Infiniti,
Eurythmics,
The Selecter,
Schoolly D,
Rod Modell,
Television Personalities,
Model 500,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Roy Ayers,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.