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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Moss Icon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Jawbox,
Flipper,
Magma,
Mr. Review,
Nik Kershaw,
Al Stewart,
Marvin Gaye,
Slick Rick,
Anakelly,
The Martian,
Q and Not U,
The Gun Club,
The Sonics,
The J.B.'s,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
Cal Tjader,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Normal,
Fear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tres Demented,
David Bowie,
Sex Pistols,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moleskins,
Country Teasers,
Dennis Brown,
Glambeats Corp.,
AZ,
Main Source,
Darondo,
Bob Dylan,
Organ,
Blossom Toes,
Silicon Teens,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gap Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Judy Mowatt,
Archie Shepp,
Ludus,
Eli Mardock,
Danielle Patucci,
LL Cool J,
Amazonics,
Eric Copeland,
Byron Stingily,
Model 500,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Y Pants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.