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 Dominica and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nick Fraelich to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monochrome Set,
UT,
Sparks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lucky Dragons,
Funkadelic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Youth Brigade,
Juan Atkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ossler,
The Residents,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Pharoah Sanders,
Heaven 17,
MDC,
Scion,
Yusef Lateef,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Associates,
Dawn Penn,
Cal Tjader,
Groovy Waters,
T.S.O.L.,
The Saints,
Eurythmics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skriet,
Boredoms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
Archie Shepp,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
E-Dancer,
The Mummies,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lungfish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Walker Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Gories,
Jacob Miller,
Scott Walker,
Harmonia,
Radiohead,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
David Axelrod,
Saccharine Trust,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.