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 Zambia and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pierre Henry to the crunk 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mad Mike,
Janne Schatter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
The Saints,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
Alice Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
The Shadows of Knight,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pole,
Agitation Free,
JFA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moleskins,
Carl Craig,
The Black Dice,
Wire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Accadde A,
John Holt,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Charles Mingus,
The Raincoats,
Magazine,
Scientists,
Patti Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
L. Decosne,
Sun Ra,
Ultravox,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Count Five,
The Cure,
DJ Style,
New York Dolls,
Bush Tetras,
Crime,
Motorama,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.