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 Czech Republic and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peter and Kerry to the funk 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Dawn Penn,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare,
The Selecter,
Gang Green,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Don Cherry,
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Average White Band,
World's Most,
Suicide,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Max Romeo,
Leonard Cohen,
The Red Krayola,
Circle Jerks,
Mo-Dettes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
kango's stein massive,
the Slits,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slave,
Radio Birdman,
Pierre Henry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eden Ahbez,
Wire,
Icehouse,
Pulsallama,
Thee Headcoats,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Make Up,
Yaz,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
In Retrospect,
Chris & Cosey,
KRS-One,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Peter & Gordon,
Brick,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sister Nancy,
The Kinks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monks,
MDC,
Faust,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.