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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Henry Cow to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Magma,
Joe Finger,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monks,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
Crime,
Symarip,
David Axelrod,
Lindisfarne,
The Red Krayola,
Bronski Beat,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Can,
Iggy Pop,
Basic Channel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
The Wake,
Marmalade,
Robert Görl,
EPMD,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chrome,
Gregory Isaacs,
Index,
Godley & Creme,
Peter and Kerry,
Prince Buster,
Derrick May,
The Saints,
Sugar Minott,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
The Fall,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Pere Ubu,
June of 44,
Faust,
Talk Talk,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-Ray Spex,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Model 500,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ponytail,
The Gories,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cybotron,
Scan 7,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.