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 Lesotho and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mojo Men to the punk 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Graham Central Station,
The Sonics,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warsaw,
Alphaville,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soulsonic Force,
Scion,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Byron Stingily,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nation of Ulysses,
Traffic Nightmare,
Patti Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Slits,
K-Klass,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Colin Newman,
Barbara Tucker,
Moby Grape,
Darondo,
The Evens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yazoo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
L. Decosne,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Christie,
The Move,
Toni Rubio,
Liliput,
Procol Harum,
Ten City,
The Black Dice,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Cell,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
Tom Boy,
U.S. Maple,
Eli Mardock,
Crash Course in Science,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
Bobby Womack,
cv313,
Wolf Eyes,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.