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 Dominican Republic and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bill Wells to the jazz 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Smog,
Malaria!,
Hot Snakes,
Brand Nubian,
The Real Kids,
Agitation Free,
Symarip,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
Kayak,
The Tremeloes,
Barbara Tucker,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pylon,
Lungfish,
Mantronix,
Brass Construction,
One Last Wish,
cv313,
Dead Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neu!,
Make Up,
Panda Bear,
L. Decosne,
Marmalade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Main Source,
Sister Nancy,
Mission of Burma,
the Normal,
Fugazi,
Chris Corsano,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Smiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Index,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Brick,
Davy DMX,
Lakeside,
Girls At Our Best!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet,
Yaz,
Grauzone,
The Fortunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.