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 Belarus and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Bobby Womack to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Popol Vuh,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Al Stewart,
Colin Newman,
Wally Richardson,
Aloha Tigers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hardrive,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Blackbyrds,
Marmalade,
Faraquet,
Smog,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
Glenn Branca,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Sneak,
David Axelrod,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
The Buckinghams,
Index,
Excepter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Coltrane,
Howard Jones,
Royal Trux,
Joey Negro,
The Victims,
Erykah Badu,
Ossler,
Tears for Fears,
Easy Going,
The Litter,
Thompson Twins,
Scientists,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erasure,
Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
Roxette,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Style,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Matthew Halsall,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sam Rivers,
Ohio Players,
The Invisible,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.