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 South Africa and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pussy Galore to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds 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 rap 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
ABC,
Jacob Miller,
Saccharine Trust,
Lucky Dragons,
Groovy Waters,
X-102,
Au Pairs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Y Pants,
the Human League,
The Smiths,
Pere Ubu,
Babytalk,
Jeff Mills,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alphaville,
The Young Rascals,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
John Foxx,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rekid,
Bad Manners,
PIL,
Rod Modell,
Boz Scaggs,
Cecil Taylor,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Pus,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Sneak,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Vogues,
Howard Jones,
Circle Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cal Tjader,
Anthony Braxton,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cure,
The Dead C,
Godley & Creme,
Unwound,
Soft Cell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.