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 Belgium and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 One Last Wish 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hoover,
Desert Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Thompson Twins,
Howard Jones,
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Smiths,
Erasure,
New Age Steppers,
Visage,
Morten Harket,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T. Rex,
Faraquet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Slits,
DJ Style,
The Standells,
Sällskapet,
Make Up,
Roy Ayers,
The Knickerbockers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Davy DMX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kerri Chandler,
Royal Trux,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Henry Cow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
Unrelated Segments,
Urselle,
Sandy B,
Gang Green,
The Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sixth Finger,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
JFA,
Bobby Byrd,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
10cc,
Basic Channel,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.