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 Maldives and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 electroclash 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
F. McDonald,
Sarah Menescal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Basic Channel,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Christie,
Fluxion,
Crooked Eye,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Liliput,
Black Flag,
Pulsallama,
Anakelly,
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Index,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Bourne,
Popol Vuh,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ken Boothe,
The Dead C,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ohio Players,
Excepter,
Mandrill,
Organ,
Pierre Henry,
Desert Stars,
Joe Finger,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echospace,
Heaven 17,
The Move,
Gang Green,
Mary Jane Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Suicide,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nico,
Rufus Thomas,
Supertramp,
Yazoo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Alphaville,
The Residents,
Rites of Spring,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monolake,
Television Personalities,
48th St. Collective,
Sandy B,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.