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 Angola and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 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 Kool Moe Dee to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Mad Mike,
Severed Heads,
Adolescents,
K-Klass,
Mars,
Thee Headcoats,
The Red Krayola,
FM Einheit,
Lower 48,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aloha Tigers,
Rapeman,
Quantec,
Bad Manners,
Eric Dolphy,
Radiohead,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris Corsano,
Panda Bear,
Ornette Coleman,
Hot Snakes,
the Bar-Kays,
Anthony Braxton,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
MDC,
The Five Americans,
Slave,
The Techniques,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chris & Cosey,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fuzztones,
Man Parrish,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
These Immortal Souls,
Technova,
The New Christs,
Nirvana,
Black Bananas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Cluster,
Los Fastidios,
The Seeds,
Delta 5,
Graham Central Station,
The Young Rascals,
Hasil Adkins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bush Tetras,
the Fania All-Stars,
DJ Sneak,
The Blackbyrds,
Au Pairs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter & Gordon,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.