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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Cale to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pylon,
New Age Steppers,
The Selecter,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Move,
Barbara Tucker,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gap Band,
The Invisible,
Wolf Eyes,
Tres Demented,
The Gladiators,
Adolescents,
Matthew Halsall,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Cecil Taylor,
The Smoke,
Essential Logic,
The Fall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roger Hodgson,
Todd Terry,
Soulsonic Force,
Little Man,
David Bowie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Al Stewart,
The Residents,
Jacques Brel,
ABC,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
Bill Near,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronan,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
La Düsseldorf,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Enemy,
the Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang of Four,
Smog,
Iggy Pop,
Aloha Tigers,
Fad Gadget,
Andrew Hill,
Josef K,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Don Cherry,
Erykah Badu,
Y Pants,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.