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 Senegal and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
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 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 Holger Czukay 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 Man Parrish to the grime 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
The Toasters,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
Stereo Dub,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deakin,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers,
Hashim,
Gong,
Audionom,
Quantec,
B.T. Express,
Negative Approach,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cure,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quadrant,
Dorothy Ashby,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Reuben Wilson,
Unwound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fortunes,
Smog,
In Retrospect,
KRS-One,
Livin' Joy,
David Bowie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brick,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
The Fuzztones,
Sarah Menescal,
Guru Guru,
Blancmange,
John Foxx,
Wasted Youth,
Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Human League,
Essential Logic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Erasure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Derrick May,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultravox,
Kas Product,
Khruangbin,
Bob Dylan,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Evens,
Jawbox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rites of Spring,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.