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 Burkina and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moebius to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eve St. Jones,
Q and Not U,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers,
Groovy Waters,
The Knickerbockers,
The Young Rascals,
Man Parrish,
Pagans,
Funkadelic,
Cheater Slicks,
a-ha,
Rotary Connection,
The Residents,
Underground Resistance,
The Gladiators,
Shoche,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Misunderstood,
Subhumans,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Associates,
Bootsy Collins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
Television Personalities,
Jesper Dahlback,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rod Modell,
Jawbox,
The Litter,
The Count Five,
Pylon,
In Retrospect,
The Cramps,
Parry Music,
Tom Boy,
Surgeon,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Pulsallama,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
the Germs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter and Kerry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Colin Newman,
Ultravox,
One Last Wish,
Suburban Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Index,
Junior Murvin,
Mad Mike,
Flipper,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.