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 Barbados and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Cluster to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rufus Thomas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul II Soul,
Crash Course in Science,
Sun Ra,
Juan Atkins,
The Last Poets,
Gang of Four,
Swans,
The Remains,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Association,
Archie Shepp,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pylon,
Erasure,
Deadbeat,
Roger Hodgson,
Schoolly D,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
These Immortal Souls,
Blossom Toes,
Thompson Twins,
Sun City Girls,
Ralphi Rosario,
OOIOO,
Arcadia,
U.S. Maple,
The Smoke,
X-102,
Ronan,
Little Man,
DJ Sneak,
Lower 48,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wally Richardson,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies,
Barbara Tucker,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
E-Dancer,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxy Music,
Skaos,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.