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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lyres 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quantec,
The Golliwogs,
The Real Kids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Royal Trux,
The Pop Group,
Warren Ellis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cramps,
Jerry's Kids,
Marmalade,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quadrant,
Arcadia,
Yusef Lateef,
Supertramp,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Graham Central Station,
Erasure,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Green,
The Cure,
Harry Pussy,
ABBA,
Matthew Bourne,
Nico,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Youth Brigade,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
Von Mondo,
Sex Pistols,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Vogues,
Television Personalities,
Essential Logic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Moody Blues,
Pole,
Amon Düül,
Ralphi Rosario,
Isaac Hayes,
Colin Newman,
Stereo Dub,
China Crisis,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.