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 Comoros 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Freddie Wadling to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Niagra,
The Standells,
Adolescents,
Ohio Players,
Hardrive,
Janne Schatter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Junior Murvin,
Procol Harum,
Ossler,
Tres Demented,
48th St. Collective,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quantec,
Aloha Tigers,
Absolute Body Control,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
The Saints,
Reuben Wilson,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sarah Menescal,
Funkadelic,
The Mummies,
Joe Finger,
Bill Wells,
Terrestrial Tones,
Darondo,
The Searchers,
Ten City,
Anthony Braxton,
Wire,
Toni Rubio,
The Durutti Column,
The Monks,
Roxy Music,
Whodini,
The Barracudas,
Kaleidoscope,
Hoover,
The Vogues,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Joey Negro,
CMW,
Sound Behaviour,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
The Grass Roots,
The Walker Brothers,
Wings,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.