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 Uzbekistan and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Parry Music to the grime 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Radio Birdman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smoke,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
Radiopuhelimet,
Oneida,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
Peter and Kerry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronnie Foster,
Talk Talk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faust,
OOIOO,
Newcleus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slits,
The Motions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
Make Up,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
the Swans,
Ultravox,
Yusef Lateef,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Supertramp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Toni Rubio,
Tres Demented,
Simply Red,
Public Enemy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Misunderstood,
K-Klass,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joensuu 1685,
The Velvet Underground,
The Count Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Quantec,
Bill Near,
Royal Trux,
The Leaves,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Sherman,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.