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 Montenegro and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Little Man to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Aural Exciters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yazoo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boz Scaggs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Image Ltd.,
Duran Duran,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Theoretical Girls,
Surgeon,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
Sun City Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Severed Heads,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry's Kids,
Magazine,
Bobby Womack,
Electric Prunes,
Black Flag,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
Joe Finger,
Unwound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric Copeland,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bush Tetras,
The Dirtbombs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nas,
Rekid,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Jandek,
Kayak,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Darondo,
Glenn Branca,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neil Young,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Mills,
June Days,
The Gories,
Fatback Band,
Massinfluence,
Young Marble Giants,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.