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 Thailand and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Animal Collective to the dance 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
In Retrospect,
Warsaw,
Minny Pops,
Deakin,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
The Pretty Things,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Andrew Hill,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Absolute Body Control,
Juan Atkins,
Hashim,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Sherman,
Supertramp,
Rhythm & Sound,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Sheep,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maleditus Sound,
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
Archie Shepp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Smiths,
Albert Ayler,
Ludus,
The Slits,
Bill Near,
Youth Brigade,
H. Thieme,
PIL,
Angry Samoans,
Harmonia,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eve St. Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ornette Coleman,
These Immortal Souls,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
Pere Ubu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amon Düül,
Davy DMX,
Bang On A Can,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.