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 Mongolia and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
Symarip,
U.S. Maple,
Hoover,
Nico,
Joe Finger,
Erasure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moebius,
Reuben Wilson,
Alison Limerick,
Scott Walker,
Vladislav Delay,
Alphaville,
The Wake,
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Negative Approach,
Tres Demented,
Yellowson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Graham Central Station,
The Trojans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Schoolly D,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Womack,
China Crisis,
The Sonics,
Terry Callier,
Chrome,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Kayak,
Goldenarms,
Model 500,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pagans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scientists,
LL Cool J,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Halsall,
a-ha,
Crash Course in Science,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rod Modell,
Todd Terry,
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.