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 Sweden and from New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 Oneida to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Mojo Men,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Martian,
Sun City Girls,
June Days,
The Red Krayola,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Subhumans,
Vladislav Delay,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Camouflage,
Brand Nubian,
The Sound,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
These Immortal Souls,
The Litter,
Television,
Organ,
The Stooges,
Visage,
Saccharine Trust,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
The Evens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marcia Griffiths,
Franke,
Barry Ungar,
Trumans Water,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
La Düsseldorf,
Arab on Radar,
Traffic Nightmare,
The J.B.'s,
Camberwell Now,
Soft Cell,
Nils Olav,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Arcadia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Little Man,
The Leaves,
John Lydon,
Joe Finger,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bad Manners,
Depeche Mode,
Main Source,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tim Buckley,
Dennis Brown,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.