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 Denmark and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron 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 Hot Snakes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Outsiders,
Robert Hood,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry's Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Underground Resistance,
Quando Quango,
Joensuu 1685,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stetsasonic,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blues Magoos,
Michelle Simonal,
Ossler,
Barbara Tucker,
The Happenings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Toasters,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magma,
Yusef Lateef,
Scrapy,
The Busters,
Boogie Down Productions,
These Immortal Souls,
Drexciya,
Can,
The Stooges,
Minor Threat,
Thompson Twins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Darondo,
Andrew Hill,
John Foxx,
Barry Ungar,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
Blake Baxter,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül,
John Cale,
Pylon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Index,
Banda Bassotti,
Spandau Ballet,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
Cecil Taylor,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.