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 Bangladesh and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Gichy Dan to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
H. Thieme,
Infiniti,
Connie Case,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
Cluster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
F. McDonald,
Circle Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Hill,
Japan,
48th St. Collective,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
ABC,
the Soft Cell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skaos,
One Last Wish,
The Star Department,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sex Pistols,
Silicon Teens,
The Dead C,
the Normal,
Second Layer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker,
Lakeside,
Neu!,
Peter & Gordon,
The Walker Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Sparks,
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt,
Barry Ungar,
Urselle,
The Associates,
Joe Finger,
Kas Product,
Frankie Knuckles,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Smooth,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.