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 Ecuador and from London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Leaves to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Angels of Light,
The Slackers,
Hardrive,
The Martian,
Max Romeo,
Trumans Water,
The Smoke,
Hasil Adkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Skarface,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Quantec,
the Slits,
Mr. Review,
the Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Niagra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Organ,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
Minnie Riperton,
Das Ding,
Cameo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sarah Menescal,
Parry Music,
Ronnie Foster,
China Crisis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick May,
Con Funk Shun,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
Half Japanese,
The Evens,
Gichy Dan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Flag,
Kenny Larkin,
Sandy B,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
Maurizio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sex Pistols,
a-ha,
Symarip,
Quadrant,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Star Department,
Slick Rick,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.