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 Sri Lanka 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Don Cherry to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Stooges,
Agitation Free,
Pussy Galore,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
Tommy Roe,
Derrick May,
Peter and Kerry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Infiniti,
Faraquet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ten City,
AZ,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
Rites of Spring,
Lindisfarne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Al Stewart,
Procol Harum,
John Coltrane,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cal Tjader,
Deepchord,
Model 500,
Blake Baxter,
Masters at Work,
Depeche Mode,
the Normal,
John Lydon,
The Monks,
Black Sheep,
A Certain Ratio,
Section 25,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Real Kids,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Halsall,
Supertramp,
John Holt,
Dual Sessions,
Rotary Connection,
Jandek,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
kango's stein massive,
Joyce Sims,
Average White Band,
Niagra,
Organ,
James White and The Blacks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.