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 Sri Lanka and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Heaven 17 to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Pulsallama,
Wally Richardson,
Warren Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cramps,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glenn Branca,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Beau Brummels,
Hashim,
Average White Band,
T. Rex,
Crime,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Althea and Donna,
Pantaleimon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
U.S. Maple,
Hasil Adkins,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eve St. Jones,
Connie Case,
The United States of America,
Drive Like Jehu,
Trumans Water,
In Retrospect,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eddi Front,
Eurythmics,
Hot Snakes,
The Kinks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang of Four,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Starr,
Graham Central Station,
Royal Trux,
Amon Düül,
The Durutti Column,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
Neu!,
Basic Channel,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Clarke,
David Bowie,
DNA,
This Heat,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.