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 Barbados and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Parry Music,
The Beau Brummels,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jandek,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mummies,
Urselle,
The Neon Judgement,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Standells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Audionom,
Pierre Henry,
Jeru the Damaja,
La Düsseldorf,
The Grass Roots,
8 Eyed Spy,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
Wire,
Magma,
Pole,
Hasil Adkins,
Anthony Braxton,
The Leaves,
H. Thieme,
X-Ray Spex,
The Vogues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
Procol Harum,
Fatback Band,
Gang Green,
Byron Stingily,
Sixth Finger,
kango's stein massive,
Tomorrow,
World's Most,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
Faraquet,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
Excepter,
Gichy Dan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.