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 Moldova and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Durutti Column to the funk 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Carl Craig,
B.T. Express,
The Sound,
The Gories,
EPMD,
Drexciya,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
The Angels of Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fear,
The J.B.'s,
Pere Ubu,
Youth Brigade,
Aural Exciters,
The Star Department,
Moebius,
Simply Red,
Faust,
Freddie Wadling,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Outsiders,
Agent Orange,
Malaria!,
The Standells,
Angry Samoans,
Whodini,
X-Ray Spex,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
Derrick Morgan,
Pussy Galore,
Ludus,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dennis Brown,
Lower 48,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cluster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Zero Boys,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cowsills,
Kayak,
Quadrant,
Alison Limerick,
Avey Tare,
This Heat,
Marmalade,
E-Dancer,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.