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 East Timor and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trojans to the electroclash 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Fuzztones,
The Walker Brothers,
Kas Product,
Lalann,
Jacob Miller,
The Invisible,
Sun City Girls,
MDC,
Robert Görl,
Fugazi,
JFA,
Nirvana,
Duran Duran,
Letta Mbulu,
R.M.O.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gichy Dan,
Camouflage,
John Lydon,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Laurel Aitken,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barry Ungar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Swans,
Eddi Front,
Hot Snakes,
Intrusion,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
The Names,
Los Fastidios,
Don Cherry,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Copeland,
Scan 7,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Almond,
10cc,
Howard Jones,
Outsiders,
Pere Ubu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lucky Dragons,
The Beau Brummels,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Khruangbin,
Quando Quango,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
La Düsseldorf,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.