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 Argentina and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Shoche,
Josef K,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flipper,
Eve St. Jones,
Newcleus,
Franke,
Tropical Tobacco,
China Crisis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Sandy B,
Unwound,
Donny Hathaway,
Blancmange,
Bronski Beat,
Bluetip,
The Fuzztones,
Brothers Johnson,
Livin' Joy,
Hardrive,
The Dirtbombs,
Reagan Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Albert Ayler,
Surgeon,
The Index,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rites of Spring,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Smooth,
Marmalade,
Ponytail,
Saccharine Trust,
The Trojans,
John Foxx,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Anthony Braxton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantytec,
Peter & Gordon,
Smog,
David Axelrod,
The Young Rascals,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Electric Prunes,
Pagans,
Sex Pistols,
the Normal,
Chrome,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.