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 Egypt and from Tehran.
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 Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Sonic Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
MC5,
The Cure,
Clear Light,
Nico,
U.S. Maple,
Television,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pulsallama,
the Association,
Barrington Levy,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reuben Wilson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Black Flag,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mandrill,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jandek,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arthur Verocai,
Guru Guru,
Silicon Teens,
MDC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter and Kerry,
Zero Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smoke,
Vainqueur,
Aaron Thompson,
Morten Harket,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang On A Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arab on Radar,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
Todd Terry,
Kerri Chandler,
Sixth Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Niagra,
Supertramp,
The Moody Blues,
Ronnie Foster,
Magazine,
Wolf Eyes,
John Lydon,
Faust,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.