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 Libya and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Jacques Brel to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Lalann,
Chrome,
The Trojans,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vainqueur,
Y Pants,
Technova,
The American Breed,
Wasted Youth,
Oneida,
Monolake,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Mills,
Simply Red,
Jerry's Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Groovy Waters,
Gang Starr,
Altered Images,
Robert Görl,
Reuben Wilson,
Funky Four + One,
Scrapy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
This Heat,
Reagan Youth,
Siglo XX,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
The Mojo Men,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dead C,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marine Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
cv313,
The Sound,
Eric Copeland,
The Litter,
the Normal,
Youth Brigade,
DJ Style,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Finger,
Ituana,
Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eddi Front,
Max Romeo,
Idris Muhammad,
Fear,
Boredoms,
The Evens,
Alphaville,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.