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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 The Beau Brummels to the grunge 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yellowson,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
Pole,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Severed Heads,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cecil Taylor,
Heaven 17,
Shoche,
The Skatalites,
Mission of Burma,
Peter and Kerry,
Massinfluence,
Thee Headcoats,
KRS-One,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Minor Threat,
Anakelly,
Underground Resistance,
U.S. Maple,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Black Bananas,
Alice Coltrane,
Cymande,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mandrill,
Zapp,
MDC,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bluetip,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Animal Collective,
The Victims,
Anthony Braxton,
Skarface,
Michelle Simonal,
Alison Limerick,
The Doors,
The Shadows of Knight,
Patti Smith,
Negative Approach,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
The New Christs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Al Stewart,
Funky Four + One,
Donny Hathaway,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.