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 Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Robert Wyatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Five Americans,
Sparks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cure,
Cymande,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Connie Case,
Dark Day,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Machine,
Eddi Front,
Black Flag,
Robert Görl,
Bill Near,
Derrick Morgan,
The Litter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Panda Bear,
Crime,
The Index,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Malaria!,
Quantec,
Duran Duran,
Nils Olav,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Q and Not U,
David Bowie,
Pole,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fluxion,
Grauzone,
Sam Rivers,
The Doors,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
Funkadelic,
Spandau Ballet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Neon Judgement,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Alton Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Metal Thangz,
Country Teasers,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Toasters,
Prince Buster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Selecter,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.