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 Zimbabwe and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
In Retrospect,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Hill,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris Corsano,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
MDC,
Harmonia,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lyres,
The Litter,
Pere Ubu,
The Leaves,
Grey Daturas,
Judy Mowatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
the Normal,
Country Teasers,
Zero Boys,
Inner City,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Enemy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Suburban Knight,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Niagra,
The Offenders,
The Mighty Diamonds,
L. Decosne,
Jacques Brel,
Organ,
Lungfish,
Index,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Order,
48th St. Collective,
Minnie Riperton,
the Slits,
Gang Starr,
Morten Harket,
Cluster,
Negative Approach,
Arcadia,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Subhumans,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.