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 Nepal and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Connie Case to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Scott Walker,
U.S. Maple,
Mars,
Subhumans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roxy Music,
Icehouse,
DNA,
Grauzone,
Jeff Mills,
Jawbox,
Harmonia,
John Lydon,
Marine Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Minnie Riperton,
Simply Red,
Wally Richardson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Al Stewart,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tres Demented,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kas Product,
Dark Day,
Cecil Taylor,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun City Girls,
Schoolly D,
Henry Cow,
Black Sheep,
The Names,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wolf Eyes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Audionom,
Stiv Bators,
Fela Kuti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slits,
Aloha Tigers,
Amon Düül,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Intrusion,
The Litter,
OOIOO,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Hasil Adkins,
T.S.O.L.,
Oneida,
Masters at Work,
Deepchord,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.