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 Sudan and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Saccharine Trust to the rap 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell,
Jerry's Kids,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
The Leaves,
Main Source,
FM Einheit,
Anakelly,
Nico,
Bobby Womack,
The Knickerbockers,
Oneida,
Don Cherry,
One Last Wish,
Chris & Cosey,
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
Gerry Rafferty,
Infiniti,
Lalo Schifrin,
Massinfluence,
JFA,
Young Marble Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ken Boothe,
Jeff Lynne,
D'Angelo,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Schoolly D,
Talk Talk,
Ronan,
Johnny Clarke,
Whodini,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
Nation of Ulysses,
David McCallum,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blancmange,
The Move,
Animal Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
Intrusion,
Outsiders,
The Offenders,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
Dennis Brown,
The Trojans,
Ten City,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Youth Brigade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
Franke,
Khruangbin,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.