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 Ivory Coast and from London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Lungfish to the dance 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
James White and The Blacks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wasted Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fugazi,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Fraelich,
Donny Hathaway,
Morten Harket,
ABC,
Cymande,
Michelle Simonal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Leaves,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Clear Light,
Magma,
Aswad,
Man Parrish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
World's Most,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sällskapet,
Prince Buster,
Cluster,
Warren Ellis,
The Busters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mars,
the Germs,
Ten City,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
Scan 7,
The Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
Public Image Ltd.,
Blancmange,
Bobby Sherman,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Motorama,
The Music Machine,
Tres Demented,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.