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 Cameroon and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Model 500,
Delon & Dalcan,
Essential Logic,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
Mandrill,
Masters at Work,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scan 7,
In Retrospect,
Stiv Bators,
Magma,
The Evens,
Janne Schatter,
Average White Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ken Boothe,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cramps,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joey Negro,
The Smoke,
Prince Buster,
Ponytail,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
the Germs,
Gang Starr,
Throbbing Gristle,
The United States of America,
Wings,
Colin Newman,
B.T. Express,
The Fugs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Babytalk,
The Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Angels of Light,
The Zeros,
R.M.O.,
Wolf Eyes,
Roxette,
Johnny Clarke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DNA,
Pierre Henry,
Infiniti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soul II Soul,
David Bowie,
Fad Gadget,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Michelle Simonal,
James White and The Blacks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Siglo XX,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.