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 Tonga and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Connie Case,
Al Stewart,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pantytec,
Organ,
The Slackers,
Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Techniques,
the Bar-Kays,
Underground Resistance,
DJ Style,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Christie,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Livin' Joy,
Minutemen,
Charles Mingus,
Boredoms,
The Residents,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fluxion,
Pharoah Sanders,
Little Man,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-101,
The Grass Roots,
The Skatalites,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare,
Curtis Mayfield,
Shoche,
Moss Icon,
E-Dancer,
ABBA,
The Associates,
Erykah Badu,
Los Fastidios,
Alison Limerick,
Fear,
Schoolly D,
Interpol,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Alton Ellis,
Angry Samoans,
Terry Callier,
Goldenarms,
Aswad,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.