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 Romania and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Donald Fagen 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 Cosmic Jokers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Absolute Body Control,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sugar Minott,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gabor Szabo,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
The American Breed,
The Standells,
Donald Byrd,
Jawbox,
Unwound,
Shoche,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry's Kids,
Warsaw,
Pulsallama,
Soft Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Eli Mardock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Althea and Donna,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Little Man,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Bananas,
Vladislav Delay,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Make Up,
The United States of America,
Derrick Morgan,
Tim Buckley,
The Smiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Rotary Connection,
The Tremeloes,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed,
The Misunderstood,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.