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 Malaysia and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 The Monks to the grunge 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Fatback Band,
FM Einheit,
Clear Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Cale,
Trumans Water,
Rosa Yemen,
Interpol,
The Moleskins,
The Litter,
David Bowie,
The Residents,
Janne Schatter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Wake,
The Dead C,
Donald Byrd,
Radiopuhelimet,
Siglo XX,
These Immortal Souls,
Charles Mingus,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed,
Roy Ayers,
The Knickerbockers,
Rapeman,
Crooked Eye,
Lindisfarne,
The Searchers,
La Düsseldorf,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeff Lynne,
The Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ossler,
June of 44,
The Names,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
China Crisis,
The Move,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
D'Angelo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Magma,
Surgeon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mantronix,
Ronan,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roxette,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.