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 Greece and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Faust to the electroclash 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
Qualms,
Make Up,
Half Japanese,
Moby Grape,
Tears for Fears,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camouflage,
Eli Mardock,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Popol Vuh,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
Ohio Players,
Erykah Badu,
Moss Icon,
48th St. Collective,
This Heat,
Deadbeat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Angry Samoans,
the Human League,
The Motions,
Minny Pops,
Massinfluence,
Charles Mingus,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Starr,
Cal Tjader,
Godley & Creme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ken Boothe,
Boredoms,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Nirvana,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sandy B,
Neu!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drexciya,
Pole,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
FM Einheit,
Suburban Knight,
Deakin,
Technova,
Lou Reed,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.