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 Mongolia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the güiro 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
The Black Dice,
The Buckinghams,
Minnie Riperton,
Crooked Eye,
Excepter,
Brick,
Echospace,
Robert Hood,
Kerri Chandler,
Porter Ricks,
Altered Images,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry's Kids,
Simply Red,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quando Quango,
Newcleus,
Pantytec,
Lightning Bolt,
John Lydon,
Surgeon,
Interpol,
The Music Machine,
Shoche,
Sandy B,
Outsiders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
cv313,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brothers Johnson,
Clear Light,
Drexciya,
Henry Cow,
Crime,
Urselle,
Joe Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Symarip,
Blossom Toes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pussy Galore,
Main Source,
Ossler,
The Wake,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ice-T,
Deepchord,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deadbeat,
MC5,
Radiohead,
June of 44,
Grey Daturas,
Moss Icon,
Loose Ends,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.