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 United States and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 The Fall to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
Kaleidoscope,
Smog,
Archie Shepp,
Second Layer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Popol Vuh,
Schoolly D,
Chris Corsano,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter & Gordon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blancmange,
Gong,
Little Man,
Underground Resistance,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Young Rascals,
Au Pairs,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angry Samoans,
The Birthday Party,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig,
The Pop Group,
EPMD,
Matthew Bourne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gap Band,
the Association,
Minny Pops,
Fat Boys,
Harmonia,
Eric Copeland,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unwound,
Sister Nancy,
Yaz,
Donald Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Connie Case,
Joy Division,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oblivians,
Eurythmics,
Nico,
Bobby Womack,
The Wake,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.