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 Cuba and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
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 guitar 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 Eurythmics to the jazz 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
the Human League,
Suicide,
Outsiders,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Christie,
Rhythm & Sound,
Half Japanese,
Basic Channel,
The Barracudas,
Blake Baxter,
Boredoms,
Newcleus,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marine Girls,
The Evens,
Second Layer,
Television,
Bobby Womack,
Dark Day,
The American Breed,
the Sonics,
Audionom,
Chrome,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Sheep,
The Mojo Men,
Public Enemy,
Trumans Water,
Crooked Eye,
Idris Muhammad,
Can,
China Crisis,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronnie Foster,
Porter Ricks,
Unwound,
The Walker Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rapeman,
Piero Umiliani,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Babytalk,
Con Funk Shun,
Barry Ungar,
Zero Boys,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.