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 Lesotho and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Deadbeat to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
One Last Wish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Au Pairs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yaz,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
Das Ding,
Deakin,
The Happenings,
Pulsallama,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABC,
Dennis Brown,
Fatback Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
JFA,
The Saints,
KRS-One,
Supertramp,
Negative Approach,
L. Decosne,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
James White and The Blacks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
Maleditus Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marmalade,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
Lakeside,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare,
Khruangbin,
Unwound,
Laurel Aitken,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
The New Christs,
Connie Case,
Drexciya,
Charles Mingus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Fela Kuti,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terrestrial Tones,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.