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 Macedonia and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin 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 David McCallum to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Soulsonic Force,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sister Nancy,
The Raincoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swell Maps,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oneida,
Clear Light,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Womack,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gun Club,
Josef K,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
B.T. Express,
June Days,
Schoolly D,
Freddie Wadling,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marvin Gaye,
John Holt,
Goldenarms,
The Pretty Things,
The Move,
Con Funk Shun,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Fela Kuti,
Albert Ayler,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Skatalites,
Nils Olav,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Spandau Ballet,
The Seeds,
Wire,
UT,
Marcia Griffiths,
The American Breed,
Accadde A,
the Bar-Kays,
The Red Krayola,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Velvet Underground,
Lalann,
The Star Department,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.