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 Greece and from Edmonton.
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 Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator 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 La Düsseldorf to the jazz 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe,
Circle Jerks,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pantaleimon,
Pole,
Boredoms,
Vladislav Delay,
The Shadows of Knight,
KRS-One,
John Foxx,
Todd Terry,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
In Retrospect,
Judy Mowatt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rekid,
John Lydon,
Kaleidoscope,
Reagan Youth,
Desert Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
June Days,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Pus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Au Pairs,
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Tom Boy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joy Division,
The Fugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
UT,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Colin Newman,
Sun City Girls,
The Fuzztones,
New York Dolls,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Girls At Our Best!,
Silicon Teens,
The Blues Magoos,
cv313,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.