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 Malta and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Morten Harket to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Pulsallama,
Wolf Eyes,
Godley & Creme,
Eden Ahbez,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
Lightning Bolt,
Skriet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick Morgan,
Pharoah Sanders,
T. Rex,
Kenny Larkin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang On A Can,
The Fire Engines,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Y Pants,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nirvana,
Prince Buster,
CMW,
The Red Krayola,
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
Jeff Lynne,
Mantronix,
The Angels of Light,
Mission of Burma,
Goldenarms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Lydon,
Yaz,
Bluetip,
Boz Scaggs,
Grauzone,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doobie Brothers,
Procol Harum,
One Last Wish,
Rakim,
Severed Heads,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blancmange,
John Foxx,
Saccharine Trust,
Dead Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.