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 Turkey 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Sun City Girls to the rock 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maleditus Sound,
John Lydon,
Wally Richardson,
Morten Harket,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Janne Schatter,
The Fortunes,
Newcleus,
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rites of Spring,
Rakim,
Boz Scaggs,
Marmalade,
Blossom Toes,
Fad Gadget,
Graham Central Station,
Sonic Youth,
Yaz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gichy Dan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Erasure,
DJ Style,
Joe Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Dual Sessions,
Stereo Dub,
Faust,
Arcadia,
Suburban Knight,
Brick,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel,
Gang of Four,
Leonard Cohen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Massinfluence,
H. Thieme,
Scan 7,
The Litter,
Bronski Beat,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
The Barracudas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marine Girls,
The Slits,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
The Buckinghams,
Judy Mowatt,
Lungfish,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.