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 Botswana and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soulsonic Force to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
B.T. Express,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ken Boothe,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sight & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Can,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swans,
Scion,
Sarah Menescal,
Massinfluence,
Shuggie Otis,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
FM Einheit,
Pantytec,
Moby Grape,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aloha Tigers,
Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispian St. Peters,
Silicon Teens,
the Germs,
Terry Callier,
Interpol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
MC5,
Black Moon,
Talk Talk,
Boz Scaggs,
Lungfish,
Laurel Aitken,
Au Pairs,
Yusef Lateef,
The Durutti Column,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cheater Slicks,
Guru Guru,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-101,
Radiohead,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
R.M.O.,
Pantaleimon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.