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 Syria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Names to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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?
The Remains,
The Saints,
Can,
Bill Wells,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultravox,
New Order,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Section 25,
Deakin,
Sixth Finger,
The Last Poets,
Slick Rick,
The Fugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Tremeloes,
Grauzone,
Yellowson,
X-Ray Spex,
Theoretical Girls,
Qualms,
Supertramp,
June Days,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chris Corsano,
Dark Day,
Maleditus Sound,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Max Romeo,
Minny Pops,
Unwound,
Toni Rubio,
Animal Collective,
Public Image Ltd.,
Smog,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
Skaos,
Reagan Youth,
Harmonia,
cv313,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kaleidoscope,
Connie Case,
The Barracudas,
the Normal,
Flipper,
David Axelrod,
Hot Snakes,
Camouflage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Patti Smith,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.