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 South Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Theoretical Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Sixth Finger,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Sarah Menescal,
H. Thieme,
Outsiders,
Faraquet,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Sparks,
The Fuzztones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Qualms,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
Circle Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Buzzcocks,
The Busters,
Magazine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Index,
Toni Rubio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
Wings,
Audionom,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Babytalk,
Zero Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Womack,
Hardrive,
The Monks,
The Gap Band,
Simply Red,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barry Ungar,
Boz Scaggs,
The Modern Lovers,
The Vogues,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Symarip,
The New Christs,
E-Dancer,
Skaos,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.