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 Gabon 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Monks 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Eddi Front,
R.M.O.,
Ultra Naté,
Sugar Minott,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Womack,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
The Knickerbockers,
Chrome,
Slave,
Derrick Morgan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers,
U.S. Maple,
Kerri Chandler,
Ohio Players,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bluetip,
Severed Heads,
Maleditus Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
Glambeats Corp.,
PIL,
John Cale,
The Motions,
Symarip,
Inner City,
the Bar-Kays,
The Monochrome Set,
Panda Bear,
AZ,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Misunderstood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fuzztones,
Matthew Bourne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Japan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erasure,
Tres Demented,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lower 48,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.