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 Fiji and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New Age Steppers to the punk 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Das Ding,
Blancmange,
LL Cool J,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sister Nancy,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
The Smoke,
The Kinks,
Deadbeat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
La Düsseldorf,
Animal Collective,
The Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dual Sessions,
Lungfish,
Freddie Wadling,
John Holt,
Henry Cow,
Pylon,
Hot Snakes,
Scientists,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mandrill,
Fugazi,
Ituana,
Sonic Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Circle Jerks,
The United States of America,
Black Moon,
U.S. Maple,
Oblivians,
Lou Christie,
a-ha,
The Dead C,
The Blues Magoos,
Mission of Burma,
Supertramp,
Hardrive,
Flipper,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Funky Four + One,
Rapeman,
The Victims,
The Mojo Men,
Skarface,
The Monks,
Jeff Lynne,
Los Fastidios,
Flash Fearless,
D'Angelo,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.