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 Malta and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Lyres,
The Durutti Column,
Wasted Youth,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Morten Harket,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
James White and The Blacks,
Funkadelic,
The Searchers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
Danielle Patucci,
PIL,
Inner City,
Albert Ayler,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cowsills,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
Adolescents,
Jacob Miller,
Hashim,
Sixth Finger,
Boredoms,
The Stooges,
Deadbeat,
Masters at Work,
Khruangbin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Knickerbockers,
Bob Dylan,
Fad Gadget,
Eric Copeland,
Q65,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Golliwogs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Cale,
Whodini,
Bauhaus,
Funky Four + One,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minny Pops,
Dead Boys,
E-Dancer,
Monks,
Grey Daturas,
the Bar-Kays,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
This Heat,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.