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 Moldova and from Lille.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pussy Galore to the disco 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
John Lydon,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David Bowie,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Bananas,
Pierre Henry,
The Star Department,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
the Germs,
June of 44,
Yaz,
The J.B.'s,
Darondo,
Johnny Clarke,
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
Reagan Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Minor Threat,
Public Enemy,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jandek,
Audionom,
Soft Machine,
The Sound,
Gang Starr,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
H. Thieme,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Velvet Underground,
Zapp,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Pussy Galore,
Roxette,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül II,
Terry Callier,
The New Christs,
China Crisis,
a-ha,
Rapeman,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chrome,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fuzztones,
New Order,
DJ Sneak,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.