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 Colombia 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Tim Buckley to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joensuu 1685,
The Count Five,
The Leaves,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Barracudas,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Green,
The Happenings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joey Negro,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cameo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flipper,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Can,
Kerrie Biddell,
Parry Music,
Hot Snakes,
Iggy Pop,
Roxy Music,
Wally Richardson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Nico,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Underground Resistance,
Mo-Dettes,
Erykah Badu,
Q65,
JFA,
John Lydon,
Pulsallama,
Bronski Beat,
The Doors,
the Swans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra,
Rufus Thomas,
Slave,
Gang Starr,
Popol Vuh,
Roxette,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
the Germs,
Cal Tjader,
kango's stein massive,
Isaac Hayes,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.