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 Sudan 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Shoche to the grunge 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Cymande,
Outsiders,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
Reagan Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang On A Can,
Alison Limerick,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hasil Adkins,
Mantronix,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
Index,
Adolescents,
ABC,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flipper,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Khruangbin,
Scan 7,
Thompson Twins,
Slave,
Lou Christie,
Pulsallama,
Television Personalities,
John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scientists,
Erasure,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Stooges,
Archie Shepp,
The Neon Judgement,
Silicon Teens,
Eurythmics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arab on Radar,
R.M.O.,
The Raincoats,
The Selecter,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Ice-T,
Surgeon,
Rod Modell,
Gang of Four,
Alton Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Flag,
The Victims,
Byron Stingily,
ABBA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deadbeat,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.