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 Italy and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Don Cherry to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
FM Einheit,
Whodini,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dual Sessions,
The Knickerbockers,
Alphaville,
Eric Copeland,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tears for Fears,
Bronski Beat,
Lakeside,
Sixth Finger,
Eurythmics,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fall,
the Soft Cell,
Harry Pussy,
John Lydon,
The Modern Lovers,
The Smoke,
Severed Heads,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soft Cell,
Aural Exciters,
James White and The Blacks,
Wolf Eyes,
Al Stewart,
The Cramps,
Lightning Bolt,
The Martian,
The Real Kids,
T. Rex,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ten City,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
Audionom,
The Fuzztones,
The Divine Comedy,
Albert Ayler,
Technova,
Freddie Wadling,
The Remains,
Monks,
Morten Harket,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Flag,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Talk Talk,
Essential Logic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Stooges,
Sarah Menescal,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.