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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lower 48 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
The American Breed,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Vogues,
Maurizio,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yusef Lateef,
In Retrospect,
Hasil Adkins,
Grey Daturas,
Animal Collective,
Pantytec,
Amazonics,
New York Dolls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
Pole,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lindisfarne,
Yaz,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
The Last Poets,
Dawn Penn,
Ituana,
The Smiths,
The Zeros,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
JFA,
The Doors,
David Bowie,
Bill Wells,
These Immortal Souls,
Mandrill,
Funkadelic,
Zapp,
Whodini,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Don Cherry,
ABC,
Ponytail,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Parry Music,
Sandy B,
Peter & Gordon,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
Fear,
Rapeman,
Matthew Halsall,
Kayak,
Infiniti,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Derrick Morgan,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.