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 Slovenia and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 Gong to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Carl Craig,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joey Negro,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tubeway Army,
Barbara Tucker,
Kurtis Blow,
a-ha,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drexciya,
Motorama,
Television,
Soulsonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
Ronan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Loose Ends,
Y Pants,
Delta 5,
8 Eyed Spy,
New York Dolls,
MC5,
Albert Ayler,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Rosa Yemen,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Arab on Radar,
The Techniques,
Eden Ahbez,
The Kinks,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
U.S. Maple,
R.M.O.,
The Cramps,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vladislav Delay,
Suburban Knight,
Camouflage,
the Normal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fortunes,
Interpol,
Wire,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
Gong,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.