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 Malaysia and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the punk 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Animal Collective,
Black Flag,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roxy Music,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Detroit Cobras,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Robert Wyatt,
Cal Tjader,
Fela Kuti,
Skriet,
The Golliwogs,
The Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
The Knickerbockers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hot Snakes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deakin,
Masters at Work,
The Martian,
Rekid,
Gregory Isaacs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Al Stewart,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
Peter & Gordon,
Amon Düül,
The United States of America,
EPMD,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
Wire,
Fear,
Quando Quango,
Sexual Harrassment,
Guru Guru,
The Mummies,
Pierre Henry,
The Five Americans,
Gang Green,
Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Desert Stars,
The Names,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.