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 Antigua and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Absolute Body Control to the rock 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Carl Craig,
Roxy Music,
Metal Thangz,
The Divine Comedy,
Leonard Cohen,
Magazine,
The Gories,
Black Bananas,
Lucky Dragons,
Gong,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Moleskins,
Can,
The Monks,
Supertramp,
Magma,
Ornette Coleman,
The Slackers,
Echospace,
The Saints,
Little Man,
Ossler,
Television Personalities,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Beau Brummels,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
Harpers Bizarre,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang of Four,
Terry Callier,
Bill Near,
Bronski Beat,
X-101,
The Seeds,
Charles Mingus,
The Count Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Velvet Underground,
Mars,
Piero Umiliani,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Finger,
Amazonics,
Brass Construction,
The Fall,
The Residents,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reuben Wilson,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield,
Unwound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.