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 Netherlands and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 China Crisis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Hoover,
Young Marble Giants,
Joensuu 1685,
Lungfish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brothers Johnson,
Fluxion,
Lyres,
Q65,
Kerri Chandler,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Durutti Column,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Sun City Girls,
The Offenders,
Stetsasonic,
Barrington Levy,
Faust,
Althea and Donna,
Morten Harket,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
Hasil Adkins,
Glenn Branca,
PIL,
Deakin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Liliput,
Nico,
Q and Not U,
The Red Krayola,
Pantaleimon,
The Index,
Cymande,
Donny Hathaway,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacques Brel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Unwound,
The Techniques,
The Busters,
Neil Young,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Bourne,
Wolf Eyes,
Popol Vuh,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.