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 Sweden and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Colin Newman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
The Wake,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dave Gahan,
Niagra,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kerri Chandler,
Sam Rivers,
World's Most,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lower 48,
Liliput,
Gang of Four,
Angry Samoans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sister Nancy,
kango's stein massive,
Can,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swans,
Deadbeat,
The Gladiators,
Charles Mingus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Velvet Underground,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
OOIOO,
Joyce Sims,
Quando Quango,
The Walker Brothers,
Ken Boothe,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
cv313,
Iggy Pop,
X-101,
Pole,
Silicon Teens,
8 Eyed Spy,
Steve Hackett,
the Germs,
Henry Cow,
James White and The Blacks,
Circle Jerks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David Bowie,
Janne Schatter,
Television,
John Coltrane,
Grauzone,
The Count Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brick,
Khruangbin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.