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 Uzbekistan and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 New Order to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gories,
Dawn Penn,
John Coltrane,
Malaria!,
Donald Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thompson Twins,
Bob Dylan,
Joensuu 1685,
Average White Band,
These Immortal Souls,
The Birthday Party,
Rufus Thomas,
UT,
Ponytail,
Youth Brigade,
Prince Buster,
Lalann,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Vainqueur,
Man Parrish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
The Wake,
Mark Hollis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Isaac Hayes,
Morten Harket,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultra Naté,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
10cc,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Von Mondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
Icehouse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faust,
Amon Düül II,
Yusef Lateef,
The Saints,
The Skatalites,
Roxy Music,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.