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 Nicaragua and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Machine to the dance 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Holt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
a-ha,
Circle Jerks,
Kenny Larkin,
Ponytail,
Das Ding,
Livin' Joy,
Sandy B,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brick,
The Cure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Banda Bassotti,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Skatalites,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mr. Review,
China Crisis,
kango's stein massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Malaria!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Animal Collective,
Blossom Toes,
The Human League,
Alison Limerick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lucky Dragons,
Moss Icon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Inner City,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Patti Smith,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Desert Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pylon,
Q65,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rotary Connection,
Byron Stingily,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Clarke,
Magma,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.