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 Morocco and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wasted Youth to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Metal Thangz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Velvet Underground,
The Techniques,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
K-Klass,
The Fugs,
Fugazi,
Faraquet,
Robert Görl,
Wire,
The Human League,
Ornette Coleman,
Au Pairs,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultravox,
Ossler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Desert Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Maurizio,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Beau Brummels,
Kenny Larkin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
JFA,
Blancmange,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Moon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Fela Kuti,
OOIOO,
the Normal,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Maleditus Sound,
The Tremeloes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hasil Adkins,
Max Romeo,
Ohio Players,
Stetsasonic,
Darondo,
Glenn Branca,
Neu!,
Lebanon Hanover,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Searchers,
Ultra Naté,
David Axelrod,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.