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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gian Franco Pienzio 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers,
Lower 48,
Hardrive,
Brick,
Theoretical Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Icehouse,
The Count Five,
Todd Rundgren,
The Happenings,
Dawn Penn,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Juan Atkins,
ABC,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
June of 44,
Nico,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lyres,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
MC5,
Rakim,
Sight & Sound,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Byrd,
Joy Division,
The Shadows of Knight,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sparks,
Scott Walker,
Rhythm & Sound,
Guru Guru,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
The Mojo Men,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Zeros,
Lalann,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Sexual Harrassment,
Easy Going,
Mandrill,
The Birthday Party,
The Star Department,
Sixth Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.