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 Denmark and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Traffic Nightmare to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Qualms,
Public Enemy,
Mr. Review,
Niagra,
June Days,
Frankie Knuckles,
Smog,
Ituana,
Urselle,
Monks,
The Seeds,
Shuggie Otis,
Wire,
Quando Quango,
The Dead C,
Q and Not U,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Janne Schatter,
Magma,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Colin Newman,
Panda Bear,
FM Einheit,
Agent Orange,
The Victims,
Dark Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kenny Larkin,
Don Cherry,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Yusef Lateef,
The Moody Blues,
Althea and Donna,
Adolescents,
The Human League,
Terry Callier,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Barracudas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skaos,
Gabor Szabo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Graham Central Station,
Surgeon,
Wasted Youth,
The Misunderstood,
Suburban Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.