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 Mongolia and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
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 oboe 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 Steve Hackett to the rock 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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pere Ubu,
Black Sheep,
The Skatalites,
Arthur Verocai,
Jandek,
Ponytail,
the Bar-Kays,
The Searchers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nas,
Franke,
The Busters,
The Pretty Things,
Whodini,
Aswad,
Sun City Girls,
Bluetip,
Dead Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Porter Ricks,
Vladislav Delay,
Marvin Gaye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mission of Burma,
Blossom Toes,
Ten City,
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Dolphy,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Lungfish,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Slave,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sight & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rosa Yemen,
Tommy Roe,
The Five Americans,
JFA,
Quando Quango,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ronan,
AZ,
Yaz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Coltrane,
Yazoo,
Boz Scaggs,
Buzzcocks,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.