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 Mongolia and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Gang Gang Dance to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
Camberwell Now,
Chris & Cosey,
Minutemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scion,
Ronnie Foster,
Kayak,
Circle Jerks,
Sparks,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacob Miller,
Althea and Donna,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric Copeland,
Man Eating Sloth,
Half Japanese,
Masters at Work,
Joey Negro,
Joensuu 1685,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skaos,
Adolescents,
The Neon Judgement,
Subhumans,
the Germs,
The Happenings,
Barclay James Harvest,
LL Cool J,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül II,
Byron Stingily,
Khruangbin,
The J.B.'s,
Peter and Kerry,
MC5,
Fluxion,
Warren Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
Accadde A,
Scan 7,
Guru Guru,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang of Four,
Jawbox,
Nils Olav,
Swell Maps,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.