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 Burkina and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Darondo to the jazz 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
Harmonia,
Josef K,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Neon Judgement,
Pagans,
Ken Boothe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Con Funk Shun,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Wells,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
The United States of America,
Ronan,
Kenny Larkin,
June Days,
Danielle Patucci,
Desert Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young,
Mad Mike,
Simply Red,
The Mummies,
Bang On A Can,
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
UT,
Bootsy Collins,
Scrapy,
Black Bananas,
Deadbeat,
Guru Guru,
Mars,
Severed Heads,
Lebanon Hanover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pantaleimon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Underground Resistance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.