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 Jamaica and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Iggy Pop,
the Swans,
Brothers Johnson,
Eddi Front,
the Slits,
Sam Rivers,
The Smiths,
The Star Department,
Erasure,
Circle Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Howard Jones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Skarface,
Janne Schatter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Organ,
Heaven 17,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
Rekid,
Soft Machine,
Mandrill,
Agent Orange,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Flag,
New Age Steppers,
Lucky Dragons,
Charles Mingus,
Fatback Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ken Boothe,
Barbara Tucker,
Young Marble Giants,
Crime,
Prince Buster,
Cymande,
Judy Mowatt,
DJ Style,
Don Cherry,
a-ha,
Aswad,
New York Dolls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yusef Lateef,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacob Miller,
Fad Gadget,
The Associates,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
The Grass Roots,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.