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 Denmark and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 U.S. Maple to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camberwell Now,
ABC,
The Stooges,
UT,
Bobby Womack,
Bauhaus,
Glenn Branca,
Clear Light,
Parry Music,
48th St. Collective,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boz Scaggs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun City Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Minutemen,
Urselle,
Half Japanese,
The Modern Lovers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The J.B.'s,
FM Einheit,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minny Pops,
Nas,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang Starr,
Swell Maps,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
Bootsy Collins,
Hardrive,
Aloha Tigers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lakeside,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
Icehouse,
Unrelated Segments,
Toni Rubio,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
The Fuzztones,
The Moody Blues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
John Holt,
PIL,
The Slackers,
Jandek,
Talk Talk,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.