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 Brazil and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Khruangbin to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
Aaron Thompson,
Gong,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cosmic Jokers,
LL Cool J,
Scratch Acid,
The Cramps,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heaven 17,
Public Enemy,
Arthur Verocai,
Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Circle Jerks,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
KRS-One,
Television,
Mission of Burma,
Pole,
Pharoah Sanders,
June of 44,
Dennis Brown,
Quando Quango,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Last Poets,
The Doobie Brothers,
Section 25,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rod Modell,
Country Teasers,
Ludus,
Eurythmics,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
OOIOO,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
Dual Sessions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
Panda Bear,
Joe Finger,
Cameo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Saccharine Trust,
Moby Grape,
Letta Mbulu,
Little Man,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Divine Comedy,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.