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 Romania and from New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Altered Images,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lee Hazlewood,
U.S. Maple,
Joensuu 1685,
Sandy B,
Boz Scaggs,
Bluetip,
Althea and Donna,
Black Sheep,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Technova,
Mr. Review,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Star Department,
Niagra,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
Ultravox,
Minor Threat,
Sällskapet,
Stiv Bators,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sound Behaviour,
Barrington Levy,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalann,
The Cure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Q and Not U,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
The Happenings,
Porter Ricks,
The Modern Lovers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
Rites of Spring,
Urselle,
The Skatalites,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Talk Talk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
EPMD,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.