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 Germany and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Last Poets to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Aswad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Fraelich,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
The Index,
Wire,
Mark Hollis,
Bill Near,
Public Enemy,
Donny Hathaway,
Con Funk Shun,
Spandau Ballet,
Ossler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tres Demented,
Black Moon,
Negative Approach,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Echospace,
Pulsallama,
James White and The Blacks,
Pole,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ronnie Foster,
Scion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Pop Group,
The Pretty Things,
Pantaleimon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joy Division,
Blake Baxter,
Dead Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Clarke,
Minny Pops,
Siglo XX,
Lalann,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
Dark Day,
Icehouse,
F. McDonald,
Josef K,
Donald Byrd,
Black Pus,
Erasure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mr. Review,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.