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 Swaziland and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Minor Threat to the crunk 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
The Techniques,
Talk Talk,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
One Last Wish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Scott Walker,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Wyatt,
John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ice-T,
The Walker Brothers,
Pulsallama,
Pantytec,
The Last Poets,
Chris & Cosey,
Los Fastidios,
Eli Mardock,
The Litter,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
The Alarm Clocks,
The American Breed,
Alphaville,
Amon Düül,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Popol Vuh,
Subhumans,
Con Funk Shun,
Reuben Wilson,
Easy Going,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
The Black Dice,
Crime,
The Wake,
Warren Ellis,
Pole,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Names,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Trumans Water,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fortunes,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hoover,
10cc,
Lou Christie,
Niagra,
Black Pus,
Royal Trux,
a-ha,
Stereo Dub,
The Pop Group,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.