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 Malawi and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Red Krayola to the rock 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Henry Cow,
Nik Kershaw,
D'Angelo,
Mr. Review,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Dolphy,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Procol Harum,
Moby Grape,
Circle Jerks,
The Skatalites,
Janne Schatter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smoke,
Ken Boothe,
Cymande,
Roxette,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
Robert Hood,
Warsaw,
Lyres,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Icehouse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Slave,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Qualms,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
Vainqueur,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Essential Logic,
Gang Starr,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barry Ungar,
The Standells,
Dawn Penn,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tubeway Army,
Graham Central Station,
Bluetip,
Ornette Coleman,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Panda Bear,
Michelle Simonal,
Brass Construction,
Eric Copeland,
Flipper,
Suburban Knight,
The Golliwogs,
CMW,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.