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 Cameroon and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Donald Fagen 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 Steve Hackett to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bad Manners,
kango's stein massive,
Deadbeat,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fugazi,
Goldenarms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
The Names,
U.S. Maple,
Little Man,
The Evens,
Slick Rick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ten City,
Lou Christie,
Ice-T,
Gang Starr,
Erykah Badu,
Monolake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Freddie Wadling,
Sandy B,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fortunes,
Barrington Levy,
Mr. Review,
Drive Like Jehu,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Green,
Sound Behaviour,
Dark Day,
the Slits,
Parry Music,
Liliput,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jerry's Kids,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Axelrod,
Lightning Bolt,
Barbara Tucker,
Supertramp,
Pantytec,
Sight & Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Franke,
Crooked Eye,
Roxette,
KRS-One,
Darondo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
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.