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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Sherman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
These Immortal Souls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Los Fastidios,
Das Ding,
Ronnie Foster,
Funky Four + One,
Slave,
Amazonics,
Simply Red,
The Residents,
Bootsy Collins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
The Mummies,
Television Personalities,
Marshall Jefferson,
The New Christs,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65,
Flash Fearless,
The Knickerbockers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Intrusion,
Derrick Morgan,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Kinks,
Neu!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Morten Harket,
Hot Snakes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moebius,
Connie Case,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lou Christie,
Marvin Gaye,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rites of Spring,
Toni Rubio,
Shuggie Otis,
Von Mondo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
In Retrospect,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantaleimon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Durutti Column,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Royal Trux,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siglo XX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jerry's Kids,
Visage,
Eli Mardock,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.