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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Bauhaus,
Bronski Beat,
Simply Red,
Eric Copeland,
The Smoke,
Swell Maps,
Wire,
Warsaw,
Donald Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Ohio Players,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pop Group,
Das Ding,
John Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Bad Manners,
La Düsseldorf,
Tres Demented,
the Soft Cell,
Laurel Aitken,
Newcleus,
Quando Quango,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
Cameo,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
Groovy Waters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Royal Trux,
Tom Boy,
Junior Murvin,
Guru Guru,
Basic Channel,
Joensuu 1685,
The Durutti Column,
Zapp,
Clear Light,
Lakeside,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terry Callier,
Reagan Youth,
Howard Jones,
Bill Wells,
Michelle Simonal,
Wolf Eyes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Urselle,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
Con Funk Shun,
Roxy Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Clarke,
Saccharine Trust,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.