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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Urselle to the grunge 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Babytalk,
Faraquet,
Drexciya,
Traffic Nightmare,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
Neil Young,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
EPMD,
Can,
Bang On A Can,
David McCallum,
MC5,
Mr. Review,
Smog,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Lebanon Hanover,
Main Source,
Alice Coltrane,
Talk Talk,
Technova,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
The Standells,
Cybotron,
Crooked Eye,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
Mad Mike,
Simply Red,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Essential Logic,
Qualms,
Porter Ricks,
Wings,
Minutemen,
Section 25,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Green,
Scott Walker,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lakeside,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flamin' Groovies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
Donald Byrd,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.