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 Afghanistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Glambeats Corp. to the grunge 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
Iggy Pop,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Jesper Dahlback,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Soulsonic Force,
The Black Dice,
Supertramp,
Dave Gahan,
Symarip,
The Beau Brummels,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Smoke,
MC5,
Bang On A Can,
the Swans,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Isaac Hayes,
Little Man,
Kerrie Biddell,
One Last Wish,
Joe Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aaron Thompson,
X-102,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
Panda Bear,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
MDC,
The Raincoats,
the Slits,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Five Americans,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
OOIOO,
Rekid,
Graham Central Station,
Mars,
Heaven 17,
X-101,
Au Pairs,
Bad Manners,
Lightning Bolt,
The Golliwogs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cheater Slicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.