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 Bahrain and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Sheep to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
the Normal,
Kurtis Blow,
Morten Harket,
Scratch Acid,
Graham Central Station,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABC,
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
John Cale,
X-Ray Spex,
Eden Ahbez,
Fela Kuti,
Magma,
Metal Thangz,
Roxy Music,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lucky Dragons,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Underground Resistance,
Yellowson,
Oneida,
Moss Icon,
Mark Hollis,
Ten City,
Avey Tare,
Derrick May,
Anthony Braxton,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oblivians,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Bananas,
John Foxx,
Au Pairs,
Deakin,
Animal Collective,
Moby Grape,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Piero Umiliani,
The Trojans,
The Zeros,
John Holt,
Ossler,
Don Cherry,
Mo-Dettes,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.