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 Hungary and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rhythm & Sound to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Pylon,
The Martian,
Thompson Twins,
Sight & Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Rekid,
The Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faraquet,
Gong,
James White and The Blacks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
AZ,
Bauhaus,
Eric Copeland,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Isaac Hayes,
Barbara Tucker,
Tommy Roe,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Von Mondo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Finger,
Neu!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Organ,
China Crisis,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Bar-Kays,
10cc,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Brand Nubian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rosa Yemen,
John Lydon,
Das Ding,
Quadrant,
Index,
Parry Music,
Clear Light,
Joey Negro,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy Collins,
ABC,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.