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 Norway and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar 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 The Moody Blues to the electroclash 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Prince Buster,
E-Dancer,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kayak,
Audionom,
The Dead C,
Kurtis Blow,
Make Up,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
KRS-One,
Theoretical Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Hood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Byron Stingily,
Pylon,
Crime,
James White and The Blacks,
The Stooges,
Brass Construction,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soul Sonic Force,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Liliput,
The Human League,
Yazoo,
Oneida,
Bush Tetras,
Franke,
Hasil Adkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stiv Bators,
Roger Hodgson,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
Harry Pussy,
Moby Grape,
Darondo,
Massinfluence,
Technova,
Au Pairs,
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Almond,
Lalann,
Pantytec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacques Brel,
Archie Shepp,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Rekid,
Barry Ungar,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spoonie Gee,
Flash Fearless,
Quadrant,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.