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 Azerbaijan and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ralphi Rosario,
Drexciya,
Alton Ellis,
Shoche,
Jandek,
Scratch Acid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Spoonie Gee,
The Offenders,
Sixth Finger,
The Vogues,
Crooked Eye,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare,
DNA,
Eve St. Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Wells,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crash Course in Science,
Loose Ends,
Banda Bassotti,
The Five Americans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
Pagans,
Camouflage,
Thompson Twins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tomorrow,
Rod Modell,
Lou Reed,
X-Ray Spex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Goldenarms,
Faraquet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June of 44,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Human League,
The Evens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blossom Toes,
Yellowson,
Sarah Menescal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Funkadelic,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Underground Resistance,
Basic Channel,
The Young Rascals,
Black Moon,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.