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 Malawi and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 ABC to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Robert Görl,
48th St. Collective,
PIL,
The Names,
Nas,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers,
Marine Girls,
Skarface,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
The Moleskins,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra,
Gabor Szabo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
Piero Umiliani,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Bananas,
Average White Band,
Kas Product,
Quando Quango,
Toni Rubio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Wyatt,
Khruangbin,
Ponytail,
Eric Dolphy,
Warren Ellis,
Arthur Verocai,
The Modern Lovers,
The Slits,
The New Christs,
Black Flag,
Slick Rick,
Bang On A Can,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Moby Grape,
Flipper,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Young Marble Giants,
Liliput,
Barrington Levy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Smog,
Agitation Free,
Organ,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Letta Mbulu,
Reuben Wilson,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.