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 Nauru and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
Soulsonic Force,
Davy DMX,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
X-102,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
Masters at Work,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
The Grass Roots,
The Monks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
B.T. Express,
Barrington Levy,
kango's stein massive,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Smoke,
Pantytec,
Byron Stingily,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
A Certain Ratio,
Essential Logic,
The Music Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
L. Decosne,
Fela Kuti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeff Mills,
Girls At Our Best!,
Reagan Youth,
the Sonics,
John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glenn Branca,
Graham Central Station,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Moon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
Suburban Knight,
Make Up,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.