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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator 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 Jeru the Damaja to the techno 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Ponytail,
The Last Poets,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Don Cherry,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fortunes,
Soul II Soul,
Con Funk Shun,
The Associates,
These Immortal Souls,
Godley & Creme,
Motorama,
Porter Ricks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
Young Marble Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Accadde A,
Silicon Teens,
Groovy Waters,
Pantaleimon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dual Sessions,
The Modern Lovers,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
Man Parrish,
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gabor Szabo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James White and The Blacks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Morten Harket,
T. Rex,
Lungfish,
Hasil Adkins,
Scrapy,
Nirvana,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Sugar Minott,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roger Hodgson,
Hashim,
Warsaw,
Underground Resistance,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.