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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Banda Bassotti to the grunge 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Mandrill,
The Grass Roots,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donny Hathaway,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacques Brel,
Pole,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
B.T. Express,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Guru Guru,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
Nirvana,
Alice Coltrane,
Agent Orange,
The Gun Club,
The Velvet Underground,
Supertramp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joyce Sims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Subhumans,
Yaz,
Skaos,
Skarface,
Lindisfarne,
Technova,
Max Romeo,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang of Four,
Monolake,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kevin Saunderson,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Mills,
Cheater Slicks,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
John Lydon,
Warren Ellis,
Reagan Youth,
The Doors,
Dorothy Ashby,
MDC,
the Germs,
Neil Young,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
Roger Hodgson,
Flash Fearless,
Sun City Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.