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 Bhutan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Wally Richardson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Ice-T,
The Slits,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultra Naté,
Zero Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
the Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Whodini,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harmonia,
Electric Prunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Kenny Larkin,
Liliput,
James White and The Blacks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Pantaleimon,
Funky Four + One,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Second Layer,
Howard Jones,
Royal Trux,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour,
The Last Poets,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacob Miller,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camouflage,
David Axelrod,
Nik Kershaw,
Sparks,
Simply Red,
Matthew Halsall,
Archie Shepp,
Blake Baxter,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
The Tremeloes,
H. Thieme,
Mr. Review,
Scrapy,
Technova,
The Victims,
Aswad,
Glenn Branca,
a-ha,
Pylon,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.