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 Croatia and from Johannesburg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes 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 Cybotron to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Malaria!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Move,
Glambeats Corp.,
Talk Talk,
Simply Red,
Surgeon,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Bowie,
Masters at Work,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Depeche Mode,
Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
cv313,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arcadia,
Brick,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
10cc,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythm & Sound,
Siglo XX,
The Names,
Mark Hollis,
Yellowson,
the Germs,
Oneida,
Sound Behaviour,
Icehouse,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soft Machine,
Subhumans,
a-ha,
Maleditus Sound,
The Toasters,
The Saints,
Q and Not U,
Oblivians,
Jeff Lynne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Excepter,
Technova,
Bob Dylan,
LL Cool J,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Neon Judgement,
Funkadelic,
the Human League,
Terry Callier,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nils Olav,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.