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 Germany and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Anakelly to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
These Immortal Souls,
Kerri Chandler,
Blancmange,
Max Romeo,
Donald Byrd,
Reuben Wilson,
Angry Samoans,
Slick Rick,
Sällskapet,
kango's stein massive,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pere Ubu,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Rundgren,
Terry Callier,
Eric Copeland,
10cc,
Peter and Kerry,
Rekid,
Oneida,
Jacob Miller,
The Stooges,
Black Flag,
The Seeds,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
F. McDonald,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Görl,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Christie,
Idris Muhammad,
Radiohead,
The Searchers,
The Monks,
Shoche,
Unwound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stetsasonic,
Roy Ayers,
The Motions,
Jawbox,
the Human League,
Peter & Gordon,
Pole,
Soul II Soul,
Jeff Mills,
Bang On A Can,
Gabor Szabo,
Barrington Levy,
The Leaves,
MC5,
The American Breed,
The Gap Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Shuggie Otis,
In Retrospect,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.