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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare,
Jacques Brel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Section 25,
Peter & Gordon,
Lower 48,
Marvin Gaye,
Magma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Real Kids,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sarah Menescal,
Camouflage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alphaville,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Normal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
The Misunderstood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Laurel Aitken,
Saccharine Trust,
The Shadows of Knight,
Main Source,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Albert Ayler,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Terry,
Reuben Wilson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Carl Craig,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skriet,
Lindisfarne,
Agent Orange,
Ronan,
Animal Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hasil Adkins,
the Germs,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
Shoche,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.