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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Danielle Patucci to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Simply Red,
Whodini,
Soft Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Ituana,
OOIOO,
Graham Central Station,
Albert Ayler,
Scion,
Wasted Youth,
Technova,
Faust,
The Toasters,
Panda Bear,
kango's stein massive,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Human League,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
DJ Sneak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-102,
Slick Rick,
Ludus,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Seeds,
Boz Scaggs,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
The Cramps,
the Swans,
Sparks,
Rotary Connection,
Donny Hathaway,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kenny Larkin,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Bourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soft Cell,
Parry Music,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.