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 Colombia and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Aural Exciters to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
Cal Tjader,
Avey Tare,
Infiniti,
Robert Hood,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
Severed Heads,
Arcadia,
Ornette Coleman,
Schoolly D,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liliput,
The Red Krayola,
Archie Shepp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Electric Prunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric Copeland,
Los Fastidios,
DJ Style,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Theoretical Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Negative Approach,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skriet,
Technova,
The Evens,
Rosa Yemen,
Symarip,
Nik Kershaw,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Whodini,
X-Ray Spex,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
Blossom Toes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deakin,
Young Marble Giants,
Toni Rubio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Offenders,
Faraquet,
Yaz,
Ludus,
Chrome,
Leonard Cohen,
Blancmange,
Howard Jones,
kango's stein massive,
June Days,
Second Layer,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.