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 Honduras and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Tim Buckley to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Seeds,
The Cure,
The Young Rascals,
John Cale,
Model 500,
Traffic Nightmare,
Franke,
Motorama,
Juan Atkins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Derrick Morgan,
Gabor Szabo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sparks,
Bauhaus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brick,
The Fire Engines,
Make Up,
The Music Machine,
Boredoms,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Searchers,
Tommy Roe,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Evens,
Fatback Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Copeland,
Anthony Braxton,
FM Einheit,
D'Angelo,
Y Pants,
Eric B and Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Warsaw,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
Reuben Wilson,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Stereo Dub,
Electric Prunes,
The Vogues,
Grey Daturas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blake Baxter,
Ornette Coleman,
Young Marble Giants,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.