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 Malawi and from Mumbai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Saccharine Trust to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Jeff Mills,
The Searchers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chris Corsano,
Cluster,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
Oblivians,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Supertramp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Knickerbockers,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cal Tjader,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Foxx,
Neu!,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mojo Men,
Dual Sessions,
Gabor Szabo,
The Neon Judgement,
Boogie Down Productions,
Urselle,
Nas,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Malaria!,
Bill Wells,
AZ,
Darondo,
Ludus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
James White and The Blacks,
Dead Boys,
Nico,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bad Manners,
Suicide,
Dark Day,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minutemen,
Ice-T,
Magazine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Cale,
Negative Approach,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
Lalann,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.