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 Iraq and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Bush Tetras to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Todd Terry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flash Fearless,
Gang Green,
Depeche Mode,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dead C,
Sällskapet,
The Misunderstood,
Boz Scaggs,
Nico,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Accadde A,
Boredoms,
Magma,
Thee Headcoats,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tears for Fears,
Tim Buckley,
Sparks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tomorrow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
Gichy Dan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Public Enemy,
Maurizio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
The Sound,
Eurythmics,
Lower 48,
Deepchord,
The Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ice-T,
The Zeros,
Terry Callier,
New Order,
Hot Snakes,
Ohio Players,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
The Victims,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.