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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gong to the electroclash 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Underground Resistance,
Angry Samoans,
Pantytec,
Bill Near,
Danielle Patucci,
Wasted Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Matthew Halsall,
The Victims,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mad Mike,
Judy Mowatt,
Eddi Front,
Amazonics,
T. Rex,
Malaria!,
Crime,
Technova,
Television Personalities,
Lower 48,
Agent Orange,
Toni Rubio,
Minnie Riperton,
The Divine Comedy,
UT,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scott Walker,
Bronski Beat,
Michelle Simonal,
Al Stewart,
Au Pairs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Spoonie Gee,
the Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moleskins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Leonard Cohen,
Jawbox,
Visage,
JFA,
Johnny Clarke,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis,
Agitation Free,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DJ Style,
Shoche,
Grey Daturas,
The Martian,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.