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 South Sudan and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lou Reed 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 FM Einheit to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Nils Olav,
Swans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brand Nubian,
Derrick May,
Unrelated Segments,
The Move,
Public Enemy,
Sällskapet,
Glenn Branca,
The Dirtbombs,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slackers,
DJ Style,
Terry Callier,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soulsonic Force,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fugs,
Harmonia,
Hashim,
Yazoo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Depeche Mode,
The Mummies,
Au Pairs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ken Boothe,
The Associates,
Supertramp,
Archie Shepp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Freddie Wadling,
The Stooges,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
Ohio Players,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Coltrane,
The Fall,
Jandek,
Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-Ray Spex,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.