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 Costa Rica and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Holger Czukay 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 Ituana to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Toasters,
Yaz,
Sugar Minott,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Trojans,
Parry Music,
Fatback Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Beau Brummels,
Sister Nancy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Normal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
China Crisis,
Black Flag,
The Searchers,
Anakelly,
Lindisfarne,
Ronnie Foster,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dirtbombs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Joe Finger,
Neil Young,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jacob Miller,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
Connie Case,
Fear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Morten Harket,
James White and The Blacks,
Nirvana,
The Cure,
PIL,
Slick Rick,
Unwound,
Aaron Thompson,
Bob Dylan,
Whodini,
This Heat,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Pole,
The Remains,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
the Germs,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.