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 India and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Freddie Wadling to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
Mission of Burma,
Babytalk,
Black Flag,
Rod Modell,
Alice Coltrane,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims,
La Düsseldorf,
Sight & Sound,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
Michelle Simonal,
Fear,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Alarm Clocks,
Basic Channel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
The Velvet Underground,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter & Gordon,
Sparks,
DJ Sneak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Index,
Chris Corsano,
The Vogues,
Crash Course in Science,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joy Division,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barbara Tucker,
Circle Jerks,
Drexciya,
Ken Boothe,
Fat Boys,
the Sonics,
Trumans Water,
Sonic Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Moby Grape,
Parry Music,
Scrapy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lightning Bolt,
E-Dancer,
Brand Nubian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Moon,
Public Enemy,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.