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 Bolivia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Lee Hazlewood to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispian St. Peters,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mark Hollis,
Althea and Donna,
Derrick May,
the Swans,
Bang On A Can,
Harry Pussy,
Dawn Penn,
Thompson Twins,
Eddi Front,
Interpol,
The Angels of Light,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fall,
The Barracudas,
Glenn Branca,
Chris Corsano,
the Fania All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Kaleidoscope,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wasted Youth,
Lungfish,
The Blackbyrds,
Juan Atkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
Flash Fearless,
48th St. Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Bob Dylan,
Surgeon,
Judy Mowatt,
Cal Tjader,
Michelle Simonal,
Lucky Dragons,
China Crisis,
Fear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Nas,
PIL,
Heaven 17,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vainqueur,
Pierre Henry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tom Boy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.