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 Korea North and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Pussy Galore to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Unwound,
Lalann,
Animal Collective,
Radio Birdman,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
Sam Rivers,
The Slits,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can,
Ronan,
Max Romeo,
Alphaville,
The Doors,
Joensuu 1685,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blake Baxter,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
Howard Jones,
Minutemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Camouflage,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aswad,
Yellowson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Terry Callier,
Wolf Eyes,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
Harmonia,
Gabor Szabo,
Surgeon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kevin Saunderson,
Masters at Work,
The Trojans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
These Immortal Souls,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
The Selecter,
Duran Duran,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
FM Einheit,
Glenn Branca,
The Buckinghams,
Steve Hackett,
Tom Boy,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.