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 Eritrea and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Monks to the funk 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
L. Decosne,
These Immortal Souls,
Kurtis Blow,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men,
Heaven 17,
The Monochrome Set,
Joe Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
Skaos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dark Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Schoolly D,
Leonard Cohen,
Rhythm & Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sonics,
Main Source,
The American Breed,
Tubeway Army,
Grauzone,
Thompson Twins,
Rotary Connection,
Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat,
Radio Birdman,
The Associates,
Talk Talk,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Basic Channel,
The Knickerbockers,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics,
Harry Pussy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Bananas,
Goldenarms,
Circle Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Christie,
Theoretical Girls,
Hoover,
The Sound,
The Toasters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.