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 Zimbabwe and from New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin 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 Nas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Half Japanese,
Intrusion,
Yazoo,
The Moleskins,
The Invisible,
Pagans,
The Slackers,
Black Sheep,
Wolf Eyes,
Althea and Donna,
Infiniti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
Urselle,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bill Near,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Absolute Body Control,
Hoover,
Robert Wyatt,
The Durutti Column,
Rod Modell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rakim,
World's Most,
X-Ray Spex,
Isaac Hayes,
Dawn Penn,
Pere Ubu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sister Nancy,
Darondo,
Lou Reed,
Gichy Dan,
Clear Light,
Ultra Naté,
Ronnie Foster,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
Michelle Simonal,
Sixth Finger,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Remains,
L. Decosne,
The Toasters,
The Fire Engines,
Agitation Free,
Little Man,
U.S. Maple,
Deakin,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
Pussy Galore,
Lucky Dragons,
Ice-T,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.