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 United Kingdom and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 Magma to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Sound Behaviour,
Tubeway Army,
Pussy Galore,
Slave,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Cybotron,
Unwound,
John Lydon,
Idris Muhammad,
Swans,
Prince Buster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Monolake,
Khruangbin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
10cc,
Pere Ubu,
Au Pairs,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aaron Thompson,
Skriet,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Christie,
Minutemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Hashim,
Dennis Brown,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
Ronnie Foster,
Motorama,
Ronan,
AZ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Max Romeo,
Tres Demented,
Yellowson,
Colin Newman,
Sun City Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
Tim Buckley,
Lalann,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Sheep,
Heaven 17,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Leaves,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minny Pops,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.