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 Congo and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 David Bowie 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 Gabor Szabo to the disco 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
The Misunderstood,
Black Moon,
Erykah Badu,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
The Tremeloes,
Cymande,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Popol Vuh,
Delta 5,
Minnie Riperton,
Steve Hackett,
The Toasters,
Minny Pops,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiohead,
The Last Poets,
The Evens,
Country Teasers,
Aaron Thompson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arcadia,
Soul II Soul,
Moebius,
Howard Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
Lucky Dragons,
Fluxion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Young Marble Giants,
Davy DMX,
Swans,
The Velvet Underground,
Roger Hodgson,
The Divine Comedy,
Danielle Patucci,
Eddi Front,
Tommy Roe,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
Metal Thangz,
Kaleidoscope,
These Immortal Souls,
the Human League,
Drexciya,
Marvin Gaye,
Blancmange,
Robert Görl,
Scan 7,
Ornette Coleman,
Supertramp,
The Doobie Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
La Düsseldorf,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.