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 East Timor and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Theoretical Girls to the dance 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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yellowson,
Nico,
Dead Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Terry,
The Names,
Sandy B,
Fort Wilson Riot,
E-Dancer,
Y Pants,
Nirvana,
Lalo Schifrin,
Zapp,
Tommy Roe,
Infiniti,
The Toasters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Livin' Joy,
Chris Corsano,
Black Moon,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Pulsallama,
the Sonics,
H. Thieme,
Josef K,
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
Joy Division,
Soul Sonic Force,
The J.B.'s,
Crispian St. Peters,
Boredoms,
In Retrospect,
Thompson Twins,
Patti Smith,
Don Cherry,
Duran Duran,
The Angels of Light,
Rufus Thomas,
World's Most,
Nils Olav,
The Velvet Underground,
Junior Murvin,
Swell Maps,
Country Teasers,
Hoover,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Skriet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Barracudas,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
D'Angelo,
Ten City,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.