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 Iceland and from Seoul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Model 500 to the dance 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
Marvin Gaye,
This Heat,
Althea and Donna,
Unrelated Segments,
June Days,
Radio Birdman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Roy Ayers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arab on Radar,
Black Sheep,
the Sonics,
KRS-One,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Deepchord,
Sonic Youth,
Marmalade,
Eddi Front,
Scratch Acid,
L. Decosne,
Pierre Henry,
The Gories,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soft Machine,
Shoche,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
Goldenarms,
Hasil Adkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
Sarah Menescal,
Gabor Szabo,
Half Japanese,
Sällskapet,
David Axelrod,
Newcleus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Birthday Party,
Hardrive,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eurythmics,
Tim Buckley,
Cal Tjader,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.