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 Sri Lanka and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Erykah Badu to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
David Bowie,
Sun City Girls,
Oblivians,
These Immortal Souls,
Blake Baxter,
Sugar Minott,
Mad Mike,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joensuu 1685,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
EPMD,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
F. McDonald,
Jacques Brel,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
Robert Wyatt,
Animal Collective,
Tomorrow,
Crime,
Average White Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Q and Not U,
Organ,
Royal Trux,
Monolake,
Essential Logic,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Outsiders,
Junior Murvin,
Jeff Lynne,
Guru Guru,
Max Romeo,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-Ray Spex,
Camberwell Now,
The Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Swans,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers,
U.S. Maple,
Harry Pussy,
The Fuzztones,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.