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 Armenia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Black Flag to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
The Standells,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Hood,
Radiohead,
Los Fastidios,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
Glenn Branca,
E-Dancer,
Scientists,
Tim Buckley,
Unwound,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joyce Sims,
David Bowie,
The Beau Brummels,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
Stereo Dub,
X-102,
Scrapy,
The Trojans,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
Drexciya,
Malaria!,
Bill Near,
Essential Logic,
Underground Resistance,
Can,
The Saints,
Sun Ra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Niagra,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
the Human League,
Cameo,
LL Cool J,
Lyres,
Quando Quango,
Ultimate Spinach,
Royal Trux,
Harmonia,
The Dead C,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maleditus Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Agitation Free,
Josef K,
Fear,
Half Japanese,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.