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 Estonia and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hot Snakes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Andrew Hill,
Ralphi Rosario,
Guru Guru,
Los Fastidios,
Nas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
R.M.O.,
Wings,
Pylon,
Aloha Tigers,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Terry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tommy Roe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Babytalk,
John Lydon,
Boz Scaggs,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Technova,
Todd Rundgren,
Oblivians,
Bang On A Can,
Half Japanese,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deakin,
Television,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
Donny Hathaway,
Brick,
Dorothy Ashby,
CMW,
Audionom,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rites of Spring,
Mo-Dettes,
Dennis Brown,
Carl Craig,
Pole,
Al Stewart,
The Flesh Eaters,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.