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 Libya and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Mad Mike,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Inner City,
Todd Rundgren,
Harry Pussy,
Danielle Patucci,
Dead Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Robert Hood,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless,
MC5,
Section 25,
Hoover,
Warren Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
In Retrospect,
Monks,
Carl Craig,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
The Monks,
Animal Collective,
Sight & Sound,
Simply Red,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
Chrome,
Susan Cadogan,
Von Mondo,
Janne Schatter,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Kinks,
Television Personalities,
Malaria!,
The Buckinghams,
Man Parrish,
Lightning Bolt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T.S.O.L.,
the Sonics,
Lakeside,
Mr. Review,
Khruangbin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Half Japanese,
Moby Grape,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gap Band,
Panda Bear,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jacques Brel,
UT,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.