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 Turkey and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grunge 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Liliput,
Deakin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
Duran Duran,
Moby Grape,
the Bar-Kays,
kango's stein massive,
Hoover,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
Magazine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dual Sessions,
Lightning Bolt,
Harmonia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Half Japanese,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
The Grass Roots,
The Associates,
Erykah Badu,
The Black Dice,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slackers,
Alphaville,
cv313,
The Motions,
Bill Near,
Lindisfarne,
T. Rex,
Joyce Sims,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
Surgeon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Q65,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Josef K,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Evens,
Nico,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donny Hathaway,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.