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 China and from Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Mad Mike to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Funkadelic,
Lakeside,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Toni Rubio,
Organ,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lindisfarne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Anthony Braxton,
Peter and Kerry,
Faust,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Section 25,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
Connie Case,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neil Young,
Wasted Youth,
New Age Steppers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Duran Duran,
Porter Ricks,
Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
Motorama,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Intrusion,
Symarip,
Skaos,
The Buckinghams,
Idris Muhammad,
Eve St. Jones,
Chrome,
Half Japanese,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
The Dave Clark Five,
MC5,
Black Flag,
the Bar-Kays,
The Searchers,
The Move,
Make Up,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Tres Demented,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Offenders,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.