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 Maldives and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Man Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantytec,
Outsiders,
Cameo,
T.S.O.L.,
MDC,
Mantronix,
Anakelly,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Essential Logic,
The United States of America,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
Tim Buckley,
Whodini,
Nirvana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Robert Wyatt,
Brick,
Circle Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Nick Fraelich,
Kerri Chandler,
Theoretical Girls,
Crime,
Supertramp,
The Human League,
Godley & Creme,
Mars,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Agent Orange,
Brand Nubian,
Fluxion,
The Moody Blues,
The Mojo Men,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Trojans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Womack,
Althea and Donna,
Arthur Verocai,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Kinks,
Country Teasers,
Index,
Rekid,
Vainqueur,
Janne Schatter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blake Baxter,
Kaleidoscope,
Franke,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.