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 Iceland and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Blancmange,
EPMD,
Slave,
Judy Mowatt,
Camberwell Now,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
The Moleskins,
The Trojans,
The Stooges,
The Pop Group,
Mandrill,
Essential Logic,
Funkadelic,
The Cowsills,
The Wake,
Arthur Verocai,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ponytail,
The Fall,
Barrington Levy,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Görl,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-102,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Circle Jerks,
The Barracudas,
Rekid,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eurythmics,
a-ha,
Bad Manners,
DNA,
Davy DMX,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
The Birthday Party,
Siglo XX,
Franke,
Urselle,
Byron Stingily,
Chris & Cosey,
Ronnie Foster,
Anthony Braxton,
Tres Demented,
June Days,
10cc,
Eddi Front,
Sonic Youth,
X-101,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mission of Burma,
Popol Vuh,
Piero Umiliani,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.