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 Brunei and from Lille.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Blues Magoos to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Grey Daturas,
Harmonia,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed,
Goldenarms,
Boz Scaggs,
Minny Pops,
Monolake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Technova,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scratch Acid,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minor Threat,
The Sound,
Todd Terry,
Joensuu 1685,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Trumans Water,
Amon Düül II,
Godley & Creme,
Soft Cell,
Das Ding,
Jacques Brel,
Khruangbin,
The Music Machine,
Maurizio,
Yusef Lateef,
Unwound,
Jandek,
K-Klass,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ralphi Rosario,
Y Pants,
Deadbeat,
The Skatalites,
Pagans,
Don Cherry,
The Moleskins,
Fear,
One Last Wish,
Ossler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Motorama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gabor Szabo,
The Index,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.