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 Congo and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wings,
Kas Product,
Soft Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Vainqueur,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
Thompson Twins,
Joy Division,
Dark Day,
The J.B.'s,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Associates,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantytec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
Drive Like Jehu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fad Gadget,
The Litter,
The Remains,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
Severed Heads,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
K-Klass,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T.S.O.L.,
Ornette Coleman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Offenders,
Chris Corsano,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lungfish,
The Doors,
Minny Pops,
Con Funk Shun,
Crooked Eye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eli Mardock,
The Kinks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.