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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the electroclash 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Grey Daturas,
Quando Quango,
Girls At Our Best!,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Das Ding,
Jeff Mills,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
Newcleus,
Tomorrow,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Roger Hodgson,
Isaac Hayes,
Patti Smith,
B.T. Express,
Monolake,
Black Flag,
Josef K,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Little Man,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacob Miller,
Althea and Donna,
Lalann,
Rapeman,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oblivians,
Joe Finger,
The American Breed,
China Crisis,
The Gories,
Urselle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare,
The Associates,
Alice Coltrane,
Ludus,
Lightning Bolt,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Duran Duran,
Tres Demented,
Rod Modell,
Eden Ahbez,
Mission of Burma,
Deadbeat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.