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 Turkmenistan and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Bananas,
Grey Daturas,
Aural Exciters,
The Moleskins,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Christie,
Dave Gahan,
Susan Cadogan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wolf Eyes,
Massinfluence,
Urselle,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth,
Zero Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy Collins,
Eli Mardock,
Cecil Taylor,
Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
EPMD,
Cameo,
Mr. Review,
Rod Modell,
The Remains,
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
The New Christs,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
Alison Limerick,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
Subhumans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Heaven 17,
JFA,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rotary Connection,
Babytalk,
Boz Scaggs,
Fluxion,
Jandek,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Leaves,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
a-ha,
The Black Dice,
Excepter,
Nick Fraelich,
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
Harry Pussy,
Model 500,
This Heat,
Rufus Thomas,
The Real Kids,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.