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 Slovakia and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the funk 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Mo-Dettes,
48th St. Collective,
Procol Harum,
Piero Umiliani,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
Parry Music,
Michelle Simonal,
Barry Ungar,
AZ,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bush Tetras,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Al Stewart,
The Smiths,
Qualms,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Durutti Column,
Liliput,
Dead Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
Mantronix,
Television,
Nils Olav,
The J.B.'s,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Brothers Johnson,
Camouflage,
Cheater Slicks,
Aloha Tigers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
Lightning Bolt,
H. Thieme,
Hasil Adkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Model 500,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mandrill,
Ultravox,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
LL Cool J,
The Remains,
Gang Green,
Monolake,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.