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 Somalia and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Supertramp,
The Zeros,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
Stereo Dub,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The American Breed,
Sight & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monks,
Talk Talk,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Anakelly,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Panda Bear,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fear,
Popol Vuh,
Basic Channel,
X-101,
Scan 7,
Sun Ra,
Tres Demented,
Fela Kuti,
Spoonie Gee,
OOIOO,
David McCallum,
Maleditus Sound,
K-Klass,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
Roger Hodgson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Anthony Braxton,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
Idris Muhammad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Skriet,
Robert Görl,
Amazonics,
Black Sheep,
Magazine,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Accadde A,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alton Ellis,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.