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 Mongolia and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camberwell Now to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joey Negro,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moleskins,
Skaos,
Average White Band,
ABBA,
Todd Terry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Panda Bear,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pantytec,
Q and Not U,
Buzzcocks,
Japan,
Delta 5,
Liliput,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Reagan Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Techniques,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rosa Yemen,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Severed Heads,
Black Flag,
Derrick Morgan,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
The Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Chris Corsano,
Janne Schatter,
The Pretty Things,
Joe Finger,
Pierre Henry,
The Mojo Men,
The Names,
ABC,
The Tremeloes,
Chrome,
Blossom Toes,
The Gap Band,
Warsaw,
Godley & Creme,
Henry Cow,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Wyatt,
Magma,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.