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 Egypt and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barbara Tucker to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
X-102,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
Faust,
Drexciya,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow,
Television,
Intrusion,
Duran Duran,
Throbbing Gristle,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Byrd,
Mandrill,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Todd Terry,
Scientists,
Nick Fraelich,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pagans,
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Technova,
The Slits,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Essential Logic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rekid,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moby Grape,
Fad Gadget,
The Standells,
Eli Mardock,
Swell Maps,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeff Mills,
Wasted Youth,
F. McDonald,
Sound Behaviour,
Easy Going,
Country Teasers,
Nas,
Ossler,
MC5,
These Immortal Souls,
Mark Hollis,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.