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 Ivory Coast and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Suicide to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Minny Pops,
Gerry Rafferty,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Happenings,
the Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers,
Morten Harket,
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Clarke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mars,
Minnie Riperton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lower 48,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
Lindisfarne,
Monks,
Yazoo,
David Bowie,
the Slits,
Quando Quango,
Model 500,
Magma,
A Certain Ratio,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radio Birdman,
Moby Grape,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra,
Black Bananas,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Kaleidoscope,
Groovy Waters,
The Knickerbockers,
Cluster,
Index,
Hoover,
Dual Sessions,
Aloha Tigers,
Rapeman,
Toni Rubio,
Wasted Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.