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 Germany and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 David Bowie 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 Jerry's Kids to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Cal Tjader,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Flag,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sällskapet,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Wyatt,
Siglo XX,
Moebius,
Sparks,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Surgeon,
JFA,
Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Make Up,
Grauzone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Bar-Kays,
Joy Division,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warren Ellis,
Smog,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
X-101,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Görl,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crooked Eye,
The Beau Brummels,
Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
Steve Hackett,
The Evens,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Crash Course in Science,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Bananas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Boredoms,
Alison Limerick,
The Zeros,
Bluetip,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fire Engines,
Ponytail,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.