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 Cuba and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Malaria! to the grunge 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Fela Kuti,
Cameo,
The Remains,
Y Pants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nirvana,
Wire,
David Bowie,
Henry Cow,
Flash Fearless,
Fat Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Symarip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June Days,
Marmalade,
Connie Case,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
Chris Corsano,
Al Stewart,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arab on Radar,
June of 44,
Negative Approach,
Malaria!,
James Chance & The Contortions,
L. Decosne,
Nik Kershaw,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Prunes,
The Doors,
The Slits,
Soul II Soul,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Wyatt,
Camberwell Now,
Cymande,
The Monks,
Icehouse,
Archie Shepp,
Babytalk,
Mission of Burma,
Marine Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Banda Bassotti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pussy Galore,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Junior Murvin,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.