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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Sarah Menescal to the electroclash 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
David Bowie,
Quadrant,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Camberwell Now,
The Slits,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Visage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
Gang of Four,
MC5,
Sixth Finger,
The Motions,
Oblivians,
Franke,
the Soft Cell,
The Residents,
Freddie Wadling,
Make Up,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bootsy Collins,
Wasted Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
The Trojans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yellowson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Flag,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Womack,
Brick,
Robert Hood,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eden Ahbez,
June of 44,
Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Monolake,
Arthur Verocai,
Marine Girls,
This Heat,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.