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 Ecuador and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Crispy Ambulance 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Altered Images,
The Music Machine,
Khruangbin,
Black Sheep,
Sarah Menescal,
Bad Manners,
Howard Jones,
Sparks,
The Buckinghams,
Heaven 17,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABBA,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fuzztones,
Mark Hollis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Invisible,
Nick Fraelich,
Ponytail,
Model 500,
Sun Ra,
Crime,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blackbyrds,
the Bar-Kays,
Reuben Wilson,
Can,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Donald Byrd,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hoover,
Animal Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
The Knickerbockers,
Kas Product,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bush Tetras,
Nas,
Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
The Dirtbombs,
June Days,
June of 44,
Qualms,
The Count Five,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fad Gadget,
Section 25,
Todd Rundgren,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.