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 Finland and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Pus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rotary Connection,
Stockholm Monsters,
MC5,
Au Pairs,
Fear,
Susan Cadogan,
Mantronix,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Swell Maps,
Joy Division,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cecil Taylor,
June of 44,
Unwound,
Organ,
Ossler,
Youth Brigade,
Donald Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
Al Stewart,
Whodini,
Stetsasonic,
Ultravox,
D'Angelo,
Todd Terry,
Bizarre Inc.,
One Last Wish,
Black Moon,
Alton Ellis,
the Swans,
Cameo,
Echospace,
the Association,
Young Marble Giants,
Mr. Review,
These Immortal Souls,
Smog,
Eve St. Jones,
The Motions,
The Wake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dennis Brown,
Excepter,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DNA,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.