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 Belize and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
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 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Buzzcocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers,
The Vogues,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Bush Tetras,
The Misunderstood,
Max Romeo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Pus,
Lucky Dragons,
Pylon,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun City Girls,
Franke,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slackers,
Agent Orange,
The Fugs,
Steve Hackett,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tomorrow,
Subhumans,
Ronan,
Brick,
Blossom Toes,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultra Naté,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Khruangbin,
Banda Bassotti,
Parry Music,
Accadde A,
Soft Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
the Slits,
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
Kevin Saunderson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tom Boy,
Ponytail,
The Offenders,
Arthur Verocai,
Lyres,
Suburban Knight,
Hashim,
The Fall,
Arcadia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.