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 Guatemala and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Michelle Simonal to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Howard Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
the Swans,
Dual Sessions,
Stockholm Monsters,
T.S.O.L.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Colin Newman,
The Offenders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blake Baxter,
Scion,
Country Teasers,
Little Man,
Deakin,
Popol Vuh,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeff Mills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
FM Einheit,
The Saints,
Audionom,
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
CMW,
Toni Rubio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Hood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reuben Wilson,
Camouflage,
Faust,
Sound Behaviour,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers,
Dennis Brown,
Cecil Taylor,
Eden Ahbez,
Rufus Thomas,
Average White Band,
Intrusion,
The Stooges,
June of 44,
Sandy B,
David Axelrod,
Arab on Radar,
Von Mondo,
EPMD,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
Franke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joy Division,
Tommy Roe,
Jandek,
Crash Course in Science,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.