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 Bahrain and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the punk 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Whodini,
Brand Nubian,
Lindisfarne,
Motorama,
Erasure,
Neil Young,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bluetip,
Au Pairs,
Suburban Knight,
Peter and Kerry,
Smog,
The Seeds,
H. Thieme,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
David Axelrod,
Godley & Creme,
Pierre Henry,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Michelle Simonal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chrome,
MC5,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Massinfluence,
Television Personalities,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Monks,
The Searchers,
Basic Channel,
K-Klass,
Lucky Dragons,
Surgeon,
The Neon Judgement,
Malaria!,
Todd Rundgren,
Drexciya,
Q65,
Grandmaster Flash,
Matthew Halsall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gun Club,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skarface,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.