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 Angola and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
10cc,
Lyres,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Funky Four + One,
Juan Atkins,
Country Teasers,
Cybotron,
Das Ding,
China Crisis,
Janne Schatter,
The Index,
Maurizio,
David McCallum,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Divine Comedy,
Barrington Levy,
Sam Rivers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warren Ellis,
Bauhaus,
Pere Ubu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Beau Brummels,
Con Funk Shun,
The Neon Judgement,
Buzzcocks,
John Coltrane,
The Fire Engines,
Can,
The Moleskins,
R.M.O.,
The Walker Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
Anakelly,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Sherman,
Little Man,
Scott Walker,
Rosa Yemen,
Suicide,
Sister Nancy,
Icehouse,
Qualms,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
The Techniques,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.