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 Peru and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Residents,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Magma,
The Names,
These Immortal Souls,
Symarip,
Nico,
Qualms,
Yaz,
Shoche,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Walker Brothers,
Warsaw,
U.S. Maple,
Cluster,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Das Ding,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
Minnie Riperton,
New York Dolls,
Severed Heads,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ponytail,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MC5,
Brass Construction,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Visage,
Pantaleimon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
The Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Traffic Nightmare,
Procol Harum,
Agitation Free,
The Cure,
Masters at Work,
Bootsy Collins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.