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 France 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Sonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Gabor Szabo,
The Moleskins,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Machine,
Andrew Hill,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
Radio Birdman,
a-ha,
John Foxx,
Can,
Ornette Coleman,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Pretty Things,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Evens,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cameo,
Urselle,
Rosa Yemen,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Star Department,
Lindisfarne,
Max Romeo,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Absolute Body Control,
Visage,
The Vogues,
Charles Mingus,
Alison Limerick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
E-Dancer,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Circle Jerks,
Arab on Radar,
Porter Ricks,
Young Marble Giants,
Grey Daturas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erasure,
Television,
Joensuu 1685,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultravox,
Excepter,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.