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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Alarm Clocks 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Tropical Tobacco,
Television,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Section 25,
the Normal,
Hasil Adkins,
Pierre Henry,
Radiohead,
Mr. Review,
Charles Mingus,
The Move,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
Lightning Bolt,
Swell Maps,
The Modern Lovers,
Fela Kuti,
Scion,
Masters at Work,
The Cowsills,
Henry Cow,
Technova,
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
Icehouse,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minor Threat,
The Martian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rod Modell,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Holt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Quantec,
Slick Rick,
Joe Finger,
Jacob Miller,
MC5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Unwound,
Khruangbin,
Rites of Spring,
Dark Day,
Joey Negro,
The Music Machine,
Aswad,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.