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 Ireland and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Howard Jones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
DNA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soft Machine,
Sister Nancy,
David Axelrod,
The Black Dice,
Skaos,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Severed Heads,
World's Most,
John Lydon,
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Skarface,
Jeff Lynne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mad Mike,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Buckinghams,
Television Personalities,
the Germs,
Boz Scaggs,
Echospace,
Wasted Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quando Quango,
Harry Pussy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Ponytail,
Mark Hollis,
Ituana,
Visage,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed,
10cc,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxy Music,
The Human League,
Wolf Eyes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Red Krayola,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
The Toasters,
Mo-Dettes,
Grauzone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neil Young,
Bill Near,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.