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 Moldova and from Seoul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 DNA to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Intrusion,
Clear Light,
Vainqueur,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
Subhumans,
Black Flag,
Livin' Joy,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Near,
The Litter,
Soft Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
The Evens,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
The Shadows of Knight,
June Days,
Underground Resistance,
Jawbox,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Electric Prunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wasted Youth,
Lyres,
The Five Americans,
The American Breed,
Jacob Miller,
Circle Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
The Monochrome Set,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Zero Boys,
Black Sheep,
The Slits,
Slick Rick,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
The Misunderstood,
Gichy Dan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Robert Görl,
Glenn Branca,
Kool Moe Dee,
Make Up,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
Dual Sessions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spoonie Gee,
Lindisfarne,
Ponytail,
Minnie Riperton,
Magma,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.