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 Benin and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Bang On A Can to the grime 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Urselle,
Avey Tare,
Lou Christie,
Public Enemy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aaron Thompson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zapp,
Mandrill,
The Litter,
Adolescents,
The Count Five,
Hardrive,
Rekid,
Freddie Wadling,
Scott Walker,
Juan Atkins,
The Music Machine,
Todd Terry,
Derrick Morgan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed,
CMW,
Rotary Connection,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantaleimon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Max Romeo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Green,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Young Marble Giants,
Stereo Dub,
Das Ding,
Pole,
Yazoo,
The Remains,
Simply Red,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
a-ha,
JFA,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.