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 El Salvador and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Y Pants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The United States of America,
Reuben Wilson,
Circle Jerks,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Duran Duran,
Pierre Henry,
Ken Boothe,
Rotary Connection,
The Searchers,
Angry Samoans,
Oneida,
the Bar-Kays,
Minutemen,
Main Source,
Neil Young,
The Gun Club,
Los Fastidios,
The Velvet Underground,
Marc Almond,
Eddi Front,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Swell Maps,
Adolescents,
June of 44,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Graham Central Station,
Eve St. Jones,
Terry Callier,
Altered Images,
Mad Mike,
Boogie Down Productions,
Interpol,
Minny Pops,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Joyce Sims,
Ornette Coleman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Can,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chrome,
Clear Light,
La Düsseldorf,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Easy Going,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Newcleus,
Jeff Mills,
Metal Thangz,
Thee Headcoats,
the Association,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Piero Umiliani,
OOIOO,
Wally Richardson,
Josef K,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.