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 Burundi and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grass Roots to the rap 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispy Ambulance,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moss Icon,
Skarface,
Public Enemy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Los Fastidios,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric Copeland,
Young Marble Giants,
Marine Girls,
Mandrill,
The Slits,
the Germs,
Pantytec,
X-102,
Chrome,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hardrive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Royal Trux,
DJ Style,
The Stooges,
Loose Ends,
Tommy Roe,
Derrick May,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Sneak,
Blancmange,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Pus,
Duran Duran,
Janne Schatter,
Alphaville,
Negative Approach,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
Soulsonic Force,
Arab on Radar,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Swans,
Funkadelic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.