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 Syria and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Y Pants,
Rites of Spring,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells,
Tres Demented,
Echospace,
Crime,
Grey Daturas,
Rakim,
DNA,
Lindisfarne,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sixth Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bronski Beat,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
The Toasters,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Almond,
Kerri Chandler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cecil Taylor,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
EPMD,
Harmonia,
Magazine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
The Evens,
X-102,
Alton Ellis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alphaville,
The Gun Club,
Gang Starr,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
Alison Limerick,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Model 500,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Cluster,
Dark Day,
Janne Schatter,
Derrick May,
Lyres,
Piero Umiliani,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.