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 Georgia and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Joe Smooth to the grunge 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Fear,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sparks,
U.S. Maple,
Boogie Down Productions,
Leonard Cohen,
Clear Light,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marmalade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Walker Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris & Cosey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Prince Buster,
Althea and Donna,
Supertramp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultravox,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick Morgan,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lyres,
Gichy Dan,
Ornette Coleman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tres Demented,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camouflage,
Black Flag,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Albert Ayler,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike,
The Martian,
Lindisfarne,
Faust,
Wally Richardson,
Joey Negro,
the Sonics,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.