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 Morocco and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
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 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 Holger Czukay 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 Agent Orange 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Parry Music,
Sällskapet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yazoo,
Surgeon,
The Electric Prunes,
Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
DJ Style,
Ken Boothe,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Rufus Thomas,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fugazi,
Hot Snakes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Theoretical Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Dawn Penn,
Stetsasonic,
John Cale,
Fear,
Thee Headcoats,
Crime,
Boredoms,
Joe Smooth,
Pylon,
Oneida,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moss Icon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rotary Connection,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
Anthony Braxton,
Derrick May,
Magazine,
Archie Shepp,
AZ,
Drexciya,
Interpol,
Bootsy Collins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Adolescents,
Cluster,
Cheater Slicks,
Babytalk,
Black Moon,
Terry Callier,
The Music Machine,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.