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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Letta Mbulu to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lindisfarne,
Mandrill,
The J.B.'s,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yellowson,
Pagans,
Fat Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Pierre Henry,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
Delta 5,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
48th St. Collective,
Cymande,
Guru Guru,
the Swans,
Fad Gadget,
Rotary Connection,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
Agitation Free,
Arcadia,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Rundgren,
Marcia Griffiths,
FM Einheit,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Von Mondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deadbeat,
Organ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shoche,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Khruangbin,
Make Up,
The Toasters,
Hoover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jacques Brel,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gories,
8 Eyed Spy,
New York Dolls,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Terry,
Reagan Youth,
The Skatalites,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.