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 Canada and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arab on Radar,
Dark Day,
The Last Poets,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül II,
The Leaves,
Sam Rivers,
Loose Ends,
The Techniques,
Metal Thangz,
The Seeds,
Niagra,
Shuggie Otis,
FM Einheit,
the Germs,
CMW,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Delta 5,
Babytalk,
Funky Four + One,
Rites of Spring,
Mantronix,
The Evens,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
Lakeside,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fall,
Minny Pops,
Motorama,
The Cramps,
Accadde A,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ronan,
Khruangbin,
Bluetip,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
D'Angelo,
Neu!,
Model 500,
Amazonics,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stiv Bators,
Arcadia,
The Grass Roots,
The Red Krayola,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
The Modern Lovers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
OOIOO,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.