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 Maldives and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yazoo,
The Barracudas,
The Residents,
The New Christs,
Tres Demented,
Buzzcocks,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Erasure,
Mission of Burma,
Unwound,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wolf Eyes,
Erykah Badu,
Model 500,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Subhumans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camouflage,
Tom Boy,
Brick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aswad,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes,
Sonic Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gap Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Visage,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scratch Acid,
OOIOO,
Saccharine Trust,
Sandy B,
China Crisis,
Jandek,
The Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cal Tjader,
CMW,
Bluetip,
Ituana,
Half Japanese,
Pylon,
Junior Murvin,
Japan,
Cluster,
Kayak,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Todd Terry,
Lakeside,
The Fugs,
Unrelated Segments,
Bad Manners,
the Bar-Kays,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.