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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 John Coltrane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Khruangbin,
Mr. Review,
Sandy B,
Yusef Lateef,
The Music Machine,
The Dead C,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mummies,
Warren Ellis,
Ornette Coleman,
These Immortal Souls,
X-102,
The Fortunes,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Parrish,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
Lower 48,
Man Eating Sloth,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Ossler,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Divine Comedy,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Near,
Godley & Creme,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Leaves,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul Sonic Force,
Josef K,
T. Rex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Althea and Donna,
Glenn Branca,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Count Five,
Smog,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Unwound,
Todd Terry,
The Fugs,
Marmalade,
The Birthday Party,
The Black Dice,
The Tremeloes,
Panda Bear,
L. Decosne,
Camouflage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Niagra,
FM Einheit,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.