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 Netherlands and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Big Daddy Kane to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Red Krayola,
Scion,
Simply Red,
Mary Jane Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-101,
The Skatalites,
Nick Fraelich,
The New Christs,
Scott Walker,
The Invisible,
Delon & Dalcan,
Qualms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Count Five,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mojo Men,
John Foxx,
Little Man,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Johnny Clarke,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
Groovy Waters,
Roy Ayers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boz Scaggs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dawn Penn,
Peter and Kerry,
Charles Mingus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lower 48,
The American Breed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Faraquet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pole,
PIL,
Derrick May,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lightning Bolt,
The Motions,
Man Parrish,
Josef K,
Kaleidoscope,
The Busters,
Los Fastidios,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.