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 Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Beau Brummels to the grunge 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gap Band,
June of 44,
Heaven 17,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chrome,
X-101,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Sonic Youth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Freddie Wadling,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maleditus Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABBA,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Slave,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Drive Like Jehu,
Anthony Braxton,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers,
Grauzone,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Bowie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hot Snakes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Moody Blues,
The Five Americans,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeff Lynne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Techniques,
Popol Vuh,
Adolescents,
Arab on Radar,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eli Mardock,
Dave Gahan,
Wolf Eyes,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
The Mojo Men,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.