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 Honduras and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Associates to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zapp,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Silicon Teens,
Cheater Slicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ken Boothe,
Joensuu 1685,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Josef K,
Dual Sessions,
The Blackbyrds,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick,
Can,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ponytail,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dawn Penn,
Radiohead,
Crispian St. Peters,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Prunes,
The Fuzztones,
Ituana,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David McCallum,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Shuggie Otis,
R.M.O.,
The Electric Prunes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oblivians,
Camouflage,
The Star Department,
The Techniques,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Smoke,
Arcadia,
Franke,
Soft Cell,
Jandek,
Von Mondo,
Gang of Four,
The Walker Brothers,
Scan 7,
Basic Channel,
Donald Byrd,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.