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 Bulgaria and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Smog to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hoover,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glambeats Corp.,
Circle Jerks,
Newcleus,
Nas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Public Enemy,
The Modern Lovers,
Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nick Fraelich,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
Colin Newman,
Howard Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Animal Collective,
Dawn Penn,
The Trojans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang of Four,
Skriet,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
June Days,
Altered Images,
The Grass Roots,
A Certain Ratio,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
Moss Icon,
Soul II Soul,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Moebius,
Von Mondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dennis Brown,
Deepchord,
Con Funk Shun,
Television,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Letta Mbulu,
Tubeway Army,
The Black Dice,
Dual Sessions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Offenders,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Smoke,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
Guru Guru,
The American Breed,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.