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 Serbia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cramps to the disco 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The American Breed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Black Moon,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Essential Logic,
Q65,
Thompson Twins,
FM Einheit,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Hill,
Metal Thangz,
Donald Byrd,
The Dead C,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arab on Radar,
Graham Central Station,
Ossler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fugs,
Eve St. Jones,
Amon Düül II,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
OOIOO,
Eden Ahbez,
Robert Hood,
The J.B.'s,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Womack,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kurtis Blow,
Brick,
The Gories,
The Wake,
Tropical Tobacco,
World's Most,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Babytalk,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling,
Harry Pussy,
Moebius,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Misunderstood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Icehouse,
Fluxion,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.