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 Jordan and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Bang On A Can to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
KRS-One,
Gregory Isaacs,
In Retrospect,
Scrapy,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
June Days,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Green,
Index,
Franke,
Cybotron,
Iggy Pop,
Alton Ellis,
Icehouse,
Blancmange,
Sam Rivers,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Lynne,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
New Order,
Technova,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fela Kuti,
The Gladiators,
The Mojo Men,
The Offenders,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Colin Newman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
DJ Style,
Skaos,
New Age Steppers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Duran Duran,
The Saints,
Minor Threat,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Massinfluence,
LL Cool J,
Soft Cell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nils Olav,
Cameo,
Robert Görl,
Traffic Nightmare,
U.S. Maple,
Pere Ubu,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.