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 Bangladesh and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pet Shop Boys to the funk 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cure,
The Barracudas,
FM Einheit,
Amon Düül II,
The Kinks,
Crash Course in Science,
One Last Wish,
Rites of Spring,
Main Source,
Sexual Harrassment,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
the Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
R.M.O.,
Wally Richardson,
John Coltrane,
Ronan,
Scrapy,
Deepchord,
Kayak,
Au Pairs,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gun Club,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
Popol Vuh,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
Symarip,
Idris Muhammad,
Ossler,
Scion,
Visage,
The Pretty Things,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Susan Cadogan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flipper,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Judy Mowatt,
The Birthday Party,
Country Teasers,
Todd Terry,
The Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
Desert Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Crime,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Bluetip,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.