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 Thailand and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Colin Newman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pere Ubu,
Symarip,
EPMD,
Ronnie Foster,
The Toasters,
Essential Logic,
Gang Green,
Jeff Mills,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barrington Levy,
Roxette,
The Gladiators,
Kayak,
Lou Christie,
Steve Hackett,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Siglo XX,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
Schoolly D,
The Pretty Things,
The Saints,
The Cowsills,
Stereo Dub,
The Remains,
Massinfluence,
Pole,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cybotron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pierre Henry,
Deakin,
Thee Headcoats,
The Names,
The Smoke,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masters at Work,
Unwound,
X-101,
The Star Department,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ten City,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.