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 Brazil and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Reuben Wilson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moss Icon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Porter Ricks,
Mark Hollis,
The Electric Prunes,
The Techniques,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quadrant,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
MC5,
Fatback Band,
Magma,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radiohead,
Cluster,
Flash Fearless,
Morten Harket,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Copeland,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Duran Duran,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Görl,
Minny Pops,
Rekid,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Motions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
Lakeside,
the Soft Cell,
Franke,
Surgeon,
Negative Approach,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Al Stewart,
Glenn Branca,
Sarah Menescal,
Prince Buster,
Ken Boothe,
Scion,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ituana,
Crooked Eye,
Model 500,
Joensuu 1685,
Wally Richardson,
John Coltrane,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.