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 France and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Chrome to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Scrapy,
Lou Reed,
Youth Brigade,
Rekid,
Ludus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jawbox,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nils Olav,
Yazoo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cal Tjader,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cluster,
Grey Daturas,
The Walker Brothers,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blues Magoos,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bootsy Collins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Theoretical Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Suburban Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
the Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Suicide,
The Angels of Light,
The Young Rascals,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Durutti Column,
Pole,
Unrelated Segments,
Dennis Brown,
Radio Birdman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fat Boys,
Fear,
Derrick May,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Victims,
Procol Harum,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
Accadde A,
The Beau Brummels,
Mars,
The Modern Lovers,
Aswad,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.