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 Finland and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Boredoms to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
FM Einheit,
Television,
Aaron Thompson,
Rod Modell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wings,
Icehouse,
The Invisible,
Matthew Bourne,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Lydon,
Mars,
Crooked Eye,
Pantaleimon,
The Remains,
The J.B.'s,
Soul II Soul,
The Fall,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
The Alarm Clocks,
DNA,
Joe Finger,
Pole,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boz Scaggs,
Al Stewart,
Mr. Review,
Bluetip,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jimmy McGriff,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Half Japanese,
Rosa Yemen,
Cheater Slicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Searchers,
The Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nico,
New York Dolls,
Alice Coltrane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
Fugazi,
Ponytail,
Q and Not U,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
Crash Course in Science,
Chrome,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.