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 Micronesia and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sonny Sharrock to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Black Dice,
Monolake,
Joey Negro,
Barbara Tucker,
The Smoke,
Altered Images,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Mills,
The Fugs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brand Nubian,
Peter and Kerry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pussy Galore,
Franke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
The Remains,
Yellowson,
Sarah Menescal,
Unrelated Segments,
Susan Cadogan,
The Seeds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick May,
Gang Green,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Wake,
Heaven 17,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minny Pops,
Moby Grape,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Lynne,
Wolf Eyes,
The Modern Lovers,
Pierre Henry,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
The Toasters,
Rites of Spring,
Tom Boy,
Reuben Wilson,
Roger Hodgson,
Don Cherry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lungfish,
Wally Richardson,
Fat Boys,
Country Teasers,
Black Bananas,
The Mummies,
Amon Düül II,
Urselle,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.