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 Guinea-Bissau and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Gang Green to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Symarip,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Second Layer,
Country Teasers,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
The Five Americans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Hood,
Royal Trux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blake Baxter,
Boogie Down Productions,
World's Most,
Schoolly D,
Sound Behaviour,
Alice Coltrane,
Guru Guru,
Rites of Spring,
The Associates,
The Walker Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
Y Pants,
The Kinks,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
L. Decosne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
Judy Mowatt,
Arab on Radar,
The Mojo Men,
The Gun Club,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Christie,
Juan Atkins,
Mantronix,
Ultravox,
Echospace,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Boz Scaggs,
The Index,
The Residents,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Invisible,
Yaz,
June Days,
Gong,
The Litter,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.