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 Samoa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Michelle Simonal to the dance 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Suburban Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slits,
Jimmy McGriff,
Al Stewart,
Scrapy,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
The Skatalites,
The Cowsills,
The J.B.'s,
Brand Nubian,
The Gladiators,
Iggy Pop,
Crash Course in Science,
Amazonics,
Surgeon,
Magazine,
The Techniques,
Aaron Thompson,
Cybotron,
Cymande,
Soft Cell,
Oneida,
Patti Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doors,
Spandau Ballet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joe Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Adolescents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jawbox,
Ituana,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Davy DMX,
Sound Behaviour,
Eve St. Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Connie Case,
Ponytail,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thee Headcoats,
Lebanon Hanover,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.