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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Monks to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hoover,
kango's stein massive,
Black Flag,
The Cure,
The Leaves,
Eddi Front,
Ultravox,
Ponytail,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Babytalk,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Young Marble Giants,
The Buckinghams,
Kaleidoscope,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pharoah Sanders,
Malaria!,
Maleditus Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sound,
DNA,
Eli Mardock,
New York Dolls,
The Wake,
Derrick May,
Terry Callier,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Average White Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
In Retrospect,
Sällskapet,
Pantytec,
H. Thieme,
Duran Duran,
Main Source,
Archie Shepp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Skriet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rites of Spring,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
It's A Beautiful Day,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
Saccharine Trust,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.