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 Djibouti and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord 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 The Last Poets to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Interpol,
Inner City,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erykah Badu,
Brick,
Arcadia,
Animal Collective,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Negative Approach,
Con Funk Shun,
Throbbing Gristle,
Underground Resistance,
Marine Girls,
The Gun Club,
Man Parrish,
John Lydon,
The Sound,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
Mandrill,
Deakin,
Scott Walker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mark Hollis,
Funky Four + One,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Remains,
Gang of Four,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Axelrod,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Black Dice,
Nirvana,
Mars,
The Seeds,
The Move,
The Fall,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Star Department,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
Ultravox,
Danielle Patucci,
Bronski Beat,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Arthur Verocai,
Alphaville,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra,
Faust,
Clear Light,
Eve St. Jones,
Ice-T,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.