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 Laos and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Donald Fagen 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 Swell Maps to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Underground Resistance,
Scott Walker,
Grauzone,
Pantytec,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Theoretical Girls,
Skriet,
AZ,
Jeff Lynne,
Moebius,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
The Invisible,
Blossom Toes,
Average White Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Television,
Cameo,
Heaven 17,
Morten Harket,
The Move,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arthur Verocai,
Anakelly,
The Names,
Lyres,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tears for Fears,
Sight & Sound,
Gang Starr,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blackbyrds,
the Normal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brothers Johnson,
The Litter,
Grey Daturas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oblivians,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kas Product,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
FM Einheit,
The New Christs,
Man Parrish,
Mandrill,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.