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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Matthew Bourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Beau Brummels,
Echospace,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
the Swans,
Essential Logic,
Rekid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Motions,
Johnny Clarke,
The Victims,
Eden Ahbez,
Minor Threat,
Von Mondo,
The Litter,
Model 500,
Ponytail,
Monks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nirvana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bill Near,
Brothers Johnson,
The Toasters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
Adolescents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
The Monks,
Inner City,
Bang On A Can,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Mojo Men,
KRS-One,
Cluster,
Morten Harket,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fluxion,
The Invisible,
The Leaves,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ornette Coleman,
Stetsasonic,
The Residents,
Sarah Menescal,
Oneida,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Susan Cadogan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
PIL,
Pole,
Procol Harum,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.