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 Belize and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Chrome to the jazz 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Yaz,
Visage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amon Düül,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Y Pants,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
Bootsy Collins,
Suburban Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Harry Pussy,
Can,
Qualms,
The Slits,
Pylon,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Smiths,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
Subhumans,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Wyatt,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mummies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smoke,
The Fortunes,
Idris Muhammad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Light Orchestra,
LL Cool J,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minnie Riperton,
Massinfluence,
Sun City Girls,
Sandy B,
Porter Ricks,
Andrew Hill,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Stetsasonic,
Section 25,
The Martian,
Nico,
Easy Going,
Brass Construction,
Tres Demented,
Masters at Work,
Aswad,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.