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 Kuwait and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Drive Like Jehu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
Quando Quango,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slits,
Hashim,
Anthony Braxton,
AZ,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Stiv Bators,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arthur Verocai,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Ituana,
The Walker Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joyce Sims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
Ohio Players,
Fugazi,
Pagans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Essential Logic,
Qualms,
Adolescents,
Toni Rubio,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
Eurythmics,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
The Dirtbombs,
Echospace,
Ultra Naté,
Junior Murvin,
Warsaw,
Public Enemy,
Slave,
Radiohead,
Pantytec,
Gang Gang Dance,
June of 44,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
D'Angelo,
Goldenarms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
Symarip,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.