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 Italy and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Unrelated Segments to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Swell Maps,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Suicide,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dead Boys,
The Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Starr,
Henry Cow,
Schoolly D,
Howard Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deakin,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Shoche,
the Swans,
Maurizio,
Andrew Hill,
Thee Headcoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Babytalk,
DNA,
PIL,
Fear,
Visage,
Japan,
Glenn Branca,
Unwound,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Buzzcocks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Blackbyrds,
Lakeside,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donny Hathaway,
The Zeros,
Grey Daturas,
New Age Steppers,
Wire,
Jawbox,
Sister Nancy,
John Coltrane,
Brick,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Anakelly,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
Niagra,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.