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 Albania and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dark Day,
Morten Harket,
Minnie Riperton,
Half Japanese,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Henry Cow,
Harry Pussy,
Moby Grape,
The Angels of Light,
Robert Görl,
Schoolly D,
The Mojo Men,
Guru Guru,
Ossler,
Popol Vuh,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Silicon Teens,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
Lyres,
Marmalade,
48th St. Collective,
Motorama,
Fad Gadget,
Soft Machine,
Icehouse,
The Slackers,
Roxy Music,
Radiohead,
The Seeds,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going,
The Motions,
Mars,
The Victims,
The Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Surgeon,
Derrick May,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mad Mike,
The Searchers,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Slits,
Rites of Spring,
The Mummies,
Newcleus,
Harmonia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
AZ,
Brick,
Arcadia,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.