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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
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 1966 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 Seoul 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 June of 44 to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
X-Ray Spex,
Rapeman,
Wally Richardson,
Carl Craig,
Lou Christie,
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
H. Thieme,
Charles Mingus,
Drexciya,
Al Stewart,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sandy B,
Joe Finger,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
Mission of Burma,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Techniques,
Flipper,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mars,
The Monochrome Set,
The Angels of Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris Corsano,
Lakeside,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radio Birdman,
Babytalk,
Agitation Free,
Sunsets and Hearts,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roxette,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABC,
Sun City Girls,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
Suicide,
The Blues Magoos,
John Holt,
Rites of Spring,
Banda Bassotti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore,
Yaz,
Clear Light,
Agent Orange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.