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 Bangladesh and from London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Thee Headcoats to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monks,
The Stooges,
Minor Threat,
Interpol,
Deepchord,
John Lydon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Hardrive,
Cecil Taylor,
Brand Nubian,
Dorothy Ashby,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
Quantec,
Dark Day,
La Düsseldorf,
Q65,
Skaos,
Soul Sonic Force,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
Banda Bassotti,
Neil Young,
The Residents,
T. Rex,
Ornette Coleman,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Guru Guru,
The Raincoats,
Glenn Branca,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
New Order,
Boz Scaggs,
Outsiders,
Black Flag,
Black Pus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick May,
Inner City,
Monks,
Black Moon,
Erykah Badu,
Wire,
The Black Dice,
Scott Walker,
Lucky Dragons,
Hot Snakes,
Procol Harum,
Alphaville,
Sandy B,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mantronix,
Hashim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.