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 Angola and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 Jeff Lynne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Monochrome Set,
Deadbeat,
Sight & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crime,
Con Funk Shun,
Lindisfarne,
Lightning Bolt,
Oblivians,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Royal Trux,
Kerrie Biddell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
D'Angelo,
Black Pus,
Eric Copeland,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cameo,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Stooges,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Eden Ahbez,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Zapp,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
Derrick May,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monolake,
Eurythmics,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter and Kerry,
Michelle Simonal,
Loose Ends,
Intrusion,
Dead Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Star Department,
The Motions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Drexciya,
Charles Mingus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
the Human League,
Monks,
Easy Going,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.