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 Nicaragua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 La Düsseldorf to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Leaves,
The Smoke,
Minnie Riperton,
Michelle Simonal,
Tommy Roe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skarface,
The Count Five,
Sun City Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
H. Thieme,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Raincoats,
Stiv Bators,
Zapp,
John Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Lynne,
John Holt,
The Kinks,
The Toasters,
Chris Corsano,
Mars,
Pere Ubu,
Excepter,
Susan Cadogan,
MC5,
The Techniques,
Albert Ayler,
Half Japanese,
Slave,
Ornette Coleman,
The New Christs,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Finger,
ABBA,
Jacques Brel,
Peter and Kerry,
Stereo Dub,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fall,
Roger Hodgson,
Scion,
Altered Images,
Ituana,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.