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 Chile 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe 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 Juan Atkins to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Bluetip,
The Neon Judgement,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
Moby Grape,
Blossom Toes,
Livin' Joy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Byrd,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scrapy,
the Soft Cell,
Shoche,
The Golliwogs,
Bauhaus,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Ultra Naté,
Sugar Minott,
Scion,
The Smoke,
10cc,
Brand Nubian,
Fear,
Erykah Badu,
The Gun Club,
Model 500,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gabor Szabo,
Deadbeat,
Surgeon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Gong,
The Remains,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barbara Tucker,
Hot Snakes,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
LL Cool J,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Görl,
Danielle Patucci,
Rotary Connection,
Kerri Chandler,
Cybotron,
The Fugs,
Anthony Braxton,
Grey Daturas,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Zeros,
The Fuzztones,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.