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 Turkmenistan and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alison Limerick to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sonics,
The Zeros,
John Lydon,
Ken Boothe,
Jeff Mills,
Nik Kershaw,
The Black Dice,
Sällskapet,
The Real Kids,
Barrington Levy,
The Fugs,
Audionom,
Flipper,
Soft Machine,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
Subhumans,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Infiniti,
Organ,
Alison Limerick,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo,
Mo-Dettes,
Loose Ends,
Danielle Patucci,
Connie Case,
Ponytail,
Panda Bear,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
Fatback Band,
Newcleus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nils Olav,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fortunes,
The Last Poets,
Arab on Radar,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Brick,
Oneida,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June of 44,
Yaz,
The Litter,
Piero Umiliani,
Joy Division,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
kango's stein massive,
Von Mondo,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.