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 San Marino and from Philadelphia.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cowsills,
The Gladiators,
kango's stein massive,
Reagan Youth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quando Quango,
Aaron Thompson,
Minny Pops,
Monks,
Suicide,
Mantronix,
The Searchers,
Neu!,
Sun Ra,
Terrestrial Tones,
48th St. Collective,
Little Man,
Cameo,
The Stooges,
Crooked Eye,
Pierre Henry,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Remains,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camouflage,
Cal Tjader,
The Divine Comedy,
Derrick Morgan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fugs,
Q and Not U,
cv313,
Goldenarms,
Ohio Players,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jawbox,
Colin Newman,
Basic Channel,
Kayak,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Association,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funky Four + One,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
Stiv Bators,
the Germs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slackers,
Soulsonic Force,
Drexciya,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.