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 Somalia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 F. McDonald 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
Pussy Galore,
Panda Bear,
JFA,
The Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Womack,
The Shadows of Knight,
Second Layer,
Piero Umiliani,
Vladislav Delay,
Nirvana,
Peter and Kerry,
Cecil Taylor,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cowsills,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
cv313,
Sexual Harrassment,
Excepter,
Tomorrow,
Pylon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Desert Stars,
H. Thieme,
Rapeman,
Mandrill,
Sugar Minott,
AZ,
Arab on Radar,
The Toasters,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Starr,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Copeland,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
The Five Americans,
Chris Corsano,
DJ Sneak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cramps,
The Young Rascals,
Faust,
X-101,
Juan Atkins,
Bluetip,
Mantronix,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.