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 Dominica and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
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 clarinet 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Scratch Acid,
Warsaw,
Main Source,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brand Nubian,
Derrick May,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Althea and Donna,
Oblivians,
Jeff Mills,
Aaron Thompson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amon Düül,
The Zeros,
48th St. Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
Nas,
FM Einheit,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oneida,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jacob Miller,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Banda Bassotti,
Crash Course in Science,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hot Snakes,
The Birthday Party,
Quando Quango,
Todd Rundgren,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Robert Görl,
The Sonics,
Cybotron,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
the Normal,
U.S. Maple,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Maurizio,
Faust,
Scan 7,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.