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 Venezuela and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 The Grass Roots to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Scrapy,
John Lydon,
Adolescents,
Bootsy Collins,
Au Pairs,
Dark Day,
Sex Pistols,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
Gang Starr,
Bill Near,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Max Romeo,
Subhumans,
Japan,
Basic Channel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Index,
Slave,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes,
the Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Misunderstood,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
Thee Headcoats,
Cymande,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
Schoolly D,
Lyres,
Groovy Waters,
The Fugs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marine Girls,
Monolake,
Deadbeat,
X-101,
Ohio Players,
Amon Düül II,
the Normal,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.