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 Czech Republic and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crispian St. Peters to the funk 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Sun Ra,
Trumans Water,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television,
DNA,
Gang Gang Dance,
Clear Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Das Ding,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
The Moody Blues,
Sixth Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ohio Players,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Martian,
Flash Fearless,
The Residents,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pole,
Derrick Morgan,
Joey Negro,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Sonics,
Eric Dolphy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Talk Talk,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
The Mummies,
Joe Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DJ Sneak,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Danielle Patucci,
Kas Product,
Camouflage,
Black Bananas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun City Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Bill Near,
CMW,
The Buckinghams,
Pere Ubu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sugar Minott,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.