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 Bulgaria and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 X-101 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Joe Finger,
T. Rex,
Laurel Aitken,
Charles Mingus,
Sixth Finger,
Kayak,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
The Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rotary Connection,
The Grass Roots,
Fela Kuti,
Smog,
Alphaville,
Black Flag,
Shuggie Otis,
Hasil Adkins,
Thompson Twins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fluxion,
Thee Headcoats,
Pagans,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
Ossler,
Wolf Eyes,
Connie Case,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Saints,
Parry Music,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gap Band,
Boz Scaggs,
The Evens,
the Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alison Limerick,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
Aloha Tigers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Order,
Vladislav Delay,
Swans,
Scion,
Dark Day,
Franke,
Roy Ayers,
Aaron Thompson,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.