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 Dominican Republic and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the dance 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun Ra,
Niagra,
Sparks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
Throbbing Gristle,
A Certain Ratio,
The Buckinghams,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monks,
Nirvana,
The Dead C,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter and Kerry,
Siglo XX,
Ossler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
OOIOO,
Skarface,
Second Layer,
Roger Hodgson,
Chris & Cosey,
Blake Baxter,
Con Funk Shun,
The Red Krayola,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
Nils Olav,
Organ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Wake,
the Swans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Banda Bassotti,
Maurizio,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
The J.B.'s,
Rufus Thomas,
The Move,
Wings,
Toni Rubio,
Flipper,
The Pretty Things,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sonic Youth,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.