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 Ireland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
T.S.O.L.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pierre Henry,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
Crash Course in Science,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Machine,
Morten Harket,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Malaria!,
Desert Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Con Funk Shun,
Ludus,
Vladislav Delay,
Subhumans,
The Vogues,
Accadde A,
Byron Stingily,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
Marvin Gaye,
Babytalk,
Intrusion,
Deadbeat,
Magma,
The Monochrome Set,
Gabor Szabo,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Bourne,
Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sam Rivers,
June Days,
The Buckinghams,
Skarface,
The New Christs,
The Red Krayola,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Animal Collective,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alphaville,
Glenn Branca,
Los Fastidios,
Loose Ends,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.