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 Barbados and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bobby Sherman 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Marmalade,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Bananas,
The Fugs,
Connie Case,
Unwound,
Charles Mingus,
Mission of Burma,
Pierre Henry,
Freddie Wadling,
Parry Music,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
CMW,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eden Ahbez,
Grauzone,
R.M.O.,
Henry Cow,
Hot Snakes,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
EPMD,
David Bowie,
Absolute Body Control,
Visage,
Ponytail,
David Axelrod,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thompson Twins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Stooges,
The Moody Blues,
Stetsasonic,
Q and Not U,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
Guru Guru,
Youth Brigade,
Tom Boy,
Max Romeo,
The Remains,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hasil Adkins,
Althea and Donna,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
E-Dancer,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Toni Rubio,
Danielle Patucci,
Porter Ricks,
Sound Behaviour,
FM Einheit,
Byron Stingily,
Technova,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Deakin,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.