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 Syria and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Terrestrial Tones,
Zapp,
Talk Talk,
Tommy Roe,
X-101,
Scott Walker,
Moss Icon,
The Stooges,
AZ,
Sex Pistols,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barbara Tucker,
Letta Mbulu,
Minutemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
Sun Ra,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
10cc,
Guru Guru,
Crooked Eye,
Warsaw,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
Gichy Dan,
The United States of America,
Electric Prunes,
Quadrant,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
The Five Americans,
The Kinks,
Boredoms,
La Düsseldorf,
U.S. Maple,
Pussy Galore,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stockholm Monsters,
OOIOO,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Iggy Pop,
Sällskapet,
Bill Wells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.