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 Nicaragua and from Tokyo.
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 Madrid.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Smoke 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Nils Olav,
Von Mondo,
The Saints,
Main Source,
Donald Byrd,
Black Flag,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jawbox,
Theoretical Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thee Headcoats,
Bill Near,
Y Pants,
The Zeros,
Mo-Dettes,
Hoover,
Babytalk,
New York Dolls,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Negative Approach,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scientists,
Derrick Morgan,
Khruangbin,
Joyce Sims,
Warsaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sam Rivers,
Ronnie Foster,
Japan,
Quantec,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hardrive,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
The Durutti Column,
Moss Icon,
X-101,
Thompson Twins,
Janne Schatter,
Grauzone,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
CMW,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.