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 Kazakhstan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bang On A Can to the disco 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Swans,
Lyres,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glenn Branca,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rakim,
The Cure,
Visage,
Oneida,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick Morgan,
Stiv Bators,
The Techniques,
Isaac Hayes,
L. Decosne,
AZ,
Jandek,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Age Steppers,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
Lucky Dragons,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pop Group,
Procol Harum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gories,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Underground Resistance,
The Wake,
The Black Dice,
Outsiders,
Magazine,
Brothers Johnson,
Aural Exciters,
Carl Craig,
Average White Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zapp,
The Associates,
The Fugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Animal Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Byron Stingily,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans,
Sparks,
The Smiths,
Motorama,
Matthew Bourne,
Subhumans,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.