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 Papua New Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 X-102 to the dance 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Liliput,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Trumans Water,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Count Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crime,
Y Pants,
Animal Collective,
Leonard Cohen,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
Interpol,
Surgeon,
Michelle Simonal,
Basic Channel,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magazine,
Au Pairs,
The Saints,
The Gun Club,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ponytail,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blancmange,
Maleditus Sound,
Tom Boy,
Drexciya,
Metal Thangz,
Grauzone,
Mars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Juan Atkins,
Rites of Spring,
ABBA,
Bauhaus,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fuzztones,
The Index,
Whodini,
The Standells,
Moby Grape,
Audionom,
Lou Reed,
Erasure,
Dual Sessions,
Parry Music,
John Holt,
Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brand Nubian,
Peter and Kerry,
Marine Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Chrome,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.