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 Madagascar and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum 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 Skaos to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Toasters,
Buzzcocks,
Moby Grape,
Rites of Spring,
The Seeds,
Trumans Water,
The Index,
Hardrive,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Görl,
The New Christs,
The Move,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marshall Jefferson,
Albert Ayler,
Warren Ellis,
Chris & Cosey,
Liliput,
CMW,
Fugazi,
Boz Scaggs,
Quando Quango,
L. Decosne,
Bob Dylan,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Residents,
Wings,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Flag,
The Victims,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Los Fastidios,
Delon & Dalcan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Moon,
Gong,
The Saints,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
The Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dave Clark Five,
This Heat,
Hoover,
X-101,
Roxy Music,
Derrick Morgan,
Grey Daturas,
Alice Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Rufus Thomas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Malaria!,
Hashim,
the Bar-Kays,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.