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 Israel and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Victims,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Wyatt,
Rites of Spring,
Little Man,
Half Japanese,
Echospace,
Ornette Coleman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fluxion,
Bobby Womack,
Pantytec,
The Motions,
Urselle,
These Immortal Souls,
The Busters,
The Pop Group,
Schoolly D,
Crime,
Circle Jerks,
Yaz,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Human League,
New York Dolls,
Blake Baxter,
Von Mondo,
Lindisfarne,
Harry Pussy,
Silicon Teens,
Brothers Johnson,
Erykah Badu,
Essential Logic,
Television Personalities,
Aloha Tigers,
Wolf Eyes,
The Grass Roots,
Visage,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mark Hollis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra,
Rod Modell,
Scientists,
David Axelrod,
Grey Daturas,
The Barracudas,
Sarah Menescal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Divine Comedy,
The Stooges,
FM Einheit,
Procol Harum,
Heaven 17,
Underground Resistance,
The Doors,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.