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 Grenada and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 H. Thieme to the dance 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Byron Stingily,
Pulsallama,
Crash Course in Science,
Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faraquet,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
Niagra,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
Procol Harum,
Patti Smith,
Organ,
Flipper,
Cameo,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Hood,
Outsiders,
Hoover,
Rod Modell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Finger,
Black Flag,
Accadde A,
Sonny Sharrock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Depeche Mode,
Graham Central Station,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cal Tjader,
Pole,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Camouflage,
Ice-T,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Gabor Szabo,
Maurizio,
Idris Muhammad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hashim,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Wells,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.