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 Maldives and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Todd Terry to the crunk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Glenn Branca,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
Eric Copeland,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vladislav Delay,
F. McDonald,
Cheater Slicks,
Heaven 17,
Black Bananas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Flag,
Byron Stingily,
Intrusion,
The Happenings,
Theoretical Girls,
Brick,
June Days,
The Walker Brothers,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sound Behaviour,
The Electric Prunes,
Youth Brigade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delta 5,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra,
The Cramps,
The Cowsills,
Essential Logic,
Model 500,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
KRS-One,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quantec,
Pole,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ice-T,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scion,
Marcia Griffiths,
PIL,
Babytalk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skriet,
Soft Cell,
The Moleskins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.