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 Mauritania and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grime 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Associates,
Joe Finger,
DJ Sneak,
Fear,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Bananas,
Mantronix,
Rod Modell,
Pole,
Sällskapet,
Morten Harket,
JFA,
Max Romeo,
Donny Hathaway,
The Golliwogs,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Knickerbockers,
the Soft Cell,
Alice Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marmalade,
Slick Rick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
CMW,
Kaleidoscope,
Deepchord,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Steve Hackett,
The Slits,
Glenn Branca,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lakeside,
Cecil Taylor,
Byron Stingily,
Eddi Front,
June Days,
Ituana,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Bill Near,
Faust,
The Grass Roots,
The Doobie Brothers,
Second Layer,
Joensuu 1685,
Eurythmics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
James White and The Blacks,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cameo,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.