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 Guyana and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 The Litter to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Sister Nancy,
48th St. Collective,
Tubeway Army,
Al Stewart,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blancmange,
Roxette,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
JFA,
Half Japanese,
Shuggie Otis,
Radio Birdman,
X-101,
The Music Machine,
Robert Hood,
Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
E-Dancer,
Marmalade,
Anakelly,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Sneak,
Chris Corsano,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeff Mills,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fat Boys,
Deakin,
Black Moon,
Anthony Braxton,
Roger Hodgson,
Monolake,
Alton Ellis,
The J.B.'s,
F. McDonald,
Bluetip,
Deepchord,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Near,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Görl,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wings,
Ultravox,
Amazonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Prince Buster,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiohead,
Amon Düül II,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.