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 Comoros and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aural Exciters to the grunge 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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Suburban Knight,
Joyce Sims,
Eddi Front,
Blancmange,
Suicide,
LL Cool J,
Lyres,
Ohio Players,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers,
Babytalk,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Piero Umiliani,
Bob Dylan,
This Heat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sällskapet,
Wolf Eyes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Monks,
Davy DMX,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Rakim,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Pulsallama,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed,
Smog,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nils Olav,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Swans,
Reuben Wilson,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hashim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rites of Spring,
The Searchers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Intrusion,
Jerry's Kids,
Motorama,
Robert Görl,
Boogie Down Productions,
B.T. Express,
L. Decosne,
Wire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slave,
The Mojo Men,
Charles Mingus,
The Seeds,
Nas,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.