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 Italy and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Rotary Connection to the crunk 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
The Buckinghams,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott Heron,
Archie Shepp,
The Residents,
Lindisfarne,
Bluetip,
Aural Exciters,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
La Düsseldorf,
The Durutti Column,
The Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Groovy Waters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reagan Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Ludus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantaleimon,
Aloha Tigers,
Adolescents,
Loose Ends,
Johnny Osbourne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Green,
EPMD,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Nirvana,
Ultra Naté,
Swans,
Fatback Band,
Public Enemy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Stiv Bators,
Erasure,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sarah Menescal,
Interpol,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rekid,
Jacob Miller,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Guru Guru,
Ten City,
L. Decosne,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.