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 Belize and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro 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 The Durutti Column to the grunge 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Busters,
Sam Rivers,
These Immortal Souls,
X-101,
Prince Buster,
Unwound,
Reuben Wilson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Royal Trux,
The Monochrome Set,
Bronski Beat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Music Machine,
Absolute Body Control,
Wings,
Half Japanese,
Peter & Gordon,
The Saints,
Sarah Menescal,
Rotary Connection,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Pylon,
Boredoms,
Swans,
Aaron Thompson,
Joensuu 1685,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Popol Vuh,
Kayak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Joyce Sims,
Tears for Fears,
Jeru the Damaja,
Interpol,
Albert Ayler,
The Smiths,
The Vogues,
Barrington Levy,
Scan 7,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Roxette,
China Crisis,
Barbara Tucker,
Mr. Review,
Hoover,
Siglo XX,
The Doors,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.