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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Shuggie Otis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Pylon,
Camberwell Now,
The Sonics,
The Associates,
Smog,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Carl Craig,
Andrew Hill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mad Mike,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Qualms,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marvin Gaye,
James White and The Blacks,
Dual Sessions,
Banda Bassotti,
Skriet,
Bobby Womack,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
The Divine Comedy,
EPMD,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
Hardrive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Newcleus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stereo Dub,
Jerry's Kids,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
Harry Pussy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bob Dylan,
Bauhaus,
The Electric Prunes,
Janne Schatter,
Sun City Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Alison Limerick,
Infiniti,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Ten City,
Television,
Fad Gadget,
Clear Light,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
Grauzone,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.