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 Tajikistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe 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 Barbara Tucker to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Organ,
the Germs,
The Techniques,
Deadbeat,
the Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Subhumans,
Erasure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
Urselle,
X-Ray Spex,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Fraelich,
Bizarre Inc.,
E-Dancer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DJ Style,
Sarah Menescal,
Altered Images,
The Slits,
Ossler,
ABBA,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lalann,
Lindisfarne,
Parry Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
Mission of Burma,
The Gladiators,
Siglo XX,
Anakelly,
Jimmy McGriff,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Japan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Swans,
Judy Mowatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Remains,
June Days,
Bluetip,
The Gories,
Mad Mike,
Motorama,
Agitation Free,
Sound Behaviour,
Archie Shepp,
Brass Construction,
Soft Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.