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 Swaziland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Suicide to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Pere Ubu,
James White and The Blacks,
Groovy Waters,
Minny Pops,
Stetsasonic,
Reuben Wilson,
Lindisfarne,
The Barracudas,
The Knickerbockers,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker,
The Blackbyrds,
Neu!,
Underground Resistance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alison Limerick,
Prince Buster,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Pagans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soft Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deakin,
the Germs,
Blossom Toes,
Pylon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
The Fall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
Yaz,
Sun Ra,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
Sex Pistols,
Camberwell Now,
Accadde A,
Chris & Cosey,
The Evens,
Jerry's Kids,
Lakeside,
Roger Hodgson,
Das Ding,
Matthew Bourne,
Sixth Finger,
Infiniti,
Public Enemy,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pet Shop Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.