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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Donald Fagen 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 Maleditus Sound to the punk 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Joe Finger,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hashim,
Piero Umiliani,
Chris Corsano,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yaz,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
The Names,
Cluster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brick,
Avey Tare,
Bob Dylan,
Dawn Penn,
Iggy Pop,
The Raincoats,
Q and Not U,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Adolescents,
Mandrill,
Eric Dolphy,
Mr. Review,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yusef Lateef,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultra Naté,
Roger Hodgson,
Lindisfarne,
the Germs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sarah Menescal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Moon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pere Ubu,
Jawbox,
Can,
June Days,
Nico,
Hardrive,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Sherman,
The Blues Magoos,
Moss Icon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slits,
Alton Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lyres,
Wings,
Albert Ayler,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.