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 Kenya and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Charles Mingus to the punk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Red Krayola,
Simply Red,
Section 25,
Mandrill,
the Soft Cell,
Warren Ellis,
Reagan Youth,
Motorama,
Hoover,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Starr,
Tim Buckley,
The Star Department,
The Names,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Knickerbockers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Techniques,
Aaron Thompson,
B.T. Express,
Roxy Music,
Marvin Gaye,
Glambeats Corp.,
Loose Ends,
Sixth Finger,
Davy DMX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
The Fugs,
Lakeside,
The Offenders,
Nirvana,
Talk Talk,
Dennis Brown,
The Dead C,
Pole,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Busters,
Gong,
Alton Ellis,
The Kinks,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.