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 Laos 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fluxion to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Eurythmics,
Tim Buckley,
June Days,
Chrome,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
Main Source,
The Invisible,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Isaac Hayes,
The Evens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ossler,
Stereo Dub,
Oneida,
Tears for Fears,
Donny Hathaway,
Spoonie Gee,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
Scratch Acid,
Jacques Brel,
Dawn Penn,
Jerry's Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Prunes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
Alice Coltrane,
Minny Pops,
New Age Steppers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New York Dolls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia,
Rufus Thomas,
Guru Guru,
Subhumans,
Matthew Halsall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantaleimon,
James White and The Blacks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Warsaw,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Gories,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.