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 Paraguay and from Lille.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the grime 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
June of 44,
Fela Kuti,
Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
Ten City,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
Sällskapet,
Das Ding,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Skatalites,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chris & Cosey,
Delta 5,
Eric Copeland,
the Swans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Howard Jones,
Byron Stingily,
Suicide,
Animal Collective,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Names,
The Pretty Things,
Icehouse,
Connie Case,
The Kinks,
Q65,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Audionom,
Index,
Jerry's Kids,
the Sonics,
Pagans,
The Blues Magoos,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Joey Negro,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker,
Radio Birdman,
Drive Like Jehu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed,
Oneida,
Khruangbin,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
The Durutti Column,
China Crisis,
Mission of Burma,
New York Dolls,
Crash Course in Science,
K-Klass,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.