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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barbara Tucker to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Brass Construction,
Slick Rick,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
The Wake,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Pantytec,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Cal Tjader,
The Mummies,
The Barracudas,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
Arab on Radar,
Little Man,
Warren Ellis,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun City Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Interpol,
Soft Machine,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultravox,
Masters at Work,
June of 44,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang On A Can,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Heaven 17,
Second Layer,
Peter and Kerry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
Radio Birdman,
X-101,
Althea and Donna,
Average White Band,
Massinfluence,
The Music Machine,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
Excepter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacob Miller,
Grauzone,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.