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 Swaziland and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blackbyrds to the rock 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The United States of America,
Joey Negro,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television,
Babytalk,
The Barracudas,
Toni Rubio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Accadde A,
Derrick May,
Thee Headcoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jerry's Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Wake,
Bluetip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Archie Shepp,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Görl,
Arthur Verocai,
Altered Images,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aaron Thompson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Jacob Miller,
UT,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gories,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
Sparks,
Matthew Halsall,
the Sonics,
Soft Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Vladislav Delay,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hoover,
Deepchord,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zapp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Intrusion,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bush Tetras,
the Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
48th St. Collective,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Andrew Hill,
Crooked Eye,
The Zeros,
E-Dancer,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.