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 Paraguay and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Alison Limerick to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Arcadia,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mission of Burma,
The Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bizarre Inc.,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Popol Vuh,
Barry Ungar,
the Swans,
Soft Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
New Age Steppers,
Mo-Dettes,
Idris Muhammad,
Nico,
Moby Grape,
Eddi Front,
Alphaville,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
June Days,
The Cramps,
Panda Bear,
Skarface,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Evens,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mummies,
R.M.O.,
Mark Hollis,
Stereo Dub,
Black Sheep,
Angry Samoans,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Byrd,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Durutti Column,
Hardrive,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.