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 Tuvalu and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ornette Coleman to the punk 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cure,
Porter Ricks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Bananas,
Cameo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Skatalites,
Robert Görl,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amazonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delta 5,
The Star Department,
Crooked Eye,
Bang On A Can,
Heaven 17,
Banda Bassotti,
La Düsseldorf,
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple,
Reuben Wilson,
Bush Tetras,
The Misunderstood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Sonics,
Nik Kershaw,
Wasted Youth,
Second Layer,
Parry Music,
The Standells,
Lyres,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
Subhumans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang Green,
the Soft Cell,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Byron Stingily,
X-102,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Quadrant,
The Saints,
Make Up,
Amon Düül II,
Cymande,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.