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 Afghanistan and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Radiopuhelimet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
The Human League,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
Alphaville,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yazoo,
Fugazi,
Eden Ahbez,
H. Thieme,
Barry Ungar,
Tommy Roe,
Neil Young,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
Fluxion,
X-101,
Radio Birdman,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick May,
Liliput,
Junior Murvin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slave,
Cheater Slicks,
Eli Mardock,
Y Pants,
The Monochrome Set,
Johnny Clarke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spandau Ballet,
Siglo XX,
Tom Boy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Suicide,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gories,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Suburban Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Groovy Waters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Warsaw,
June of 44,
Index,
DJ Sneak,
Cal Tjader,
Lindisfarne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dead C,
Steve Hackett,
The Blackbyrds,
Joey Negro,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.