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 Slovenia and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe 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 DJ Sneak to the electroclash 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Quadrant,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Duran Duran,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Massinfluence,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
New Age Steppers,
Kayak,
Section 25,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hashim,
The Buckinghams,
Tomorrow,
Make Up,
Bobby Hutcherson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Ken Boothe,
The Divine Comedy,
Siglo XX,
Derrick May,
Joyce Sims,
Talk Talk,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Starr,
James White and The Blacks,
John Lydon,
Surgeon,
The Index,
cv313,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
Erykah Badu,
The Sound,
Aswad,
Warren Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eurythmics,
Idris Muhammad,
Steve Hackett,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Popol Vuh,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Trumans Water,
Pantytec,
Little Man,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Babytalk,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.