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 Brunei and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Panda Bear to the disco 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Mr. Review,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skriet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Intrusion,
The Trojans,
Country Teasers,
Khruangbin,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
David Bowie,
These Immortal Souls,
cv313,
Minutemen,
Black Pus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Sex Pistols,
Mandrill,
Jeff Lynne,
E-Dancer,
The J.B.'s,
Gabor Szabo,
Wings,
Zapp,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Moss Icon,
Sparks,
Popol Vuh,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacob Miller,
Oneida,
Sister Nancy,
the Sonics,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dennis Brown,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cramps,
Massinfluence,
Underground Resistance,
Jacques Brel,
Althea and Donna,
UT,
The Flesh Eaters,
The United States of America,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
K-Klass,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.