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 Netherlands 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Dual Sessions to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Junior Murvin,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Glenn Branca,
Byron Stingily,
John Cale,
Audionom,
Nico,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tommy Roe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Piero Umiliani,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scientists,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra,
Hoover,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Residents,
This Heat,
Panda Bear,
Can,
Moebius,
Amon Düül II,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moby Grape,
New Order,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Invisible,
Pierre Henry,
Tres Demented,
Sister Nancy,
Absolute Body Control,
Brand Nubian,
China Crisis,
Basic Channel,
Tom Boy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Smog,
Cecil Taylor,
The Remains,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
D'Angelo,
Bill Wells,
Siglo XX,
Robert Hood,
Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Colin Newman,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül,
Barbara Tucker,
Rakim,
Heaven 17,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.