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 Austria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Taipei and Glasgow.
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 synthesizer 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 Organ to the grunge 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The Last Poets,
Deadbeat,
FM Einheit,
Joensuu 1685,
David Axelrod,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Accadde A,
Saccharine Trust,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Vogues,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fat Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lower 48,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jandek,
Tom Boy,
Joe Finger,
Rites of Spring,
KRS-One,
the Human League,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Certain Ratio,
Tubeway Army,
Minny Pops,
Slick Rick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sarah Menescal,
The Happenings,
Rekid,
Little Man,
Severed Heads,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wings,
The Black Dice,
Suicide,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Walker Brothers,
Skriet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ludus,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Hill,
The Young Rascals,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gap Band,
Hot Snakes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.