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 United Kingdom and from New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
The Victims,
Visage,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cheater Slicks,
Easy Going,
The Trojans,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aaron Thompson,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
Shoche,
Gang Starr,
Subhumans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moody Blues,
The Birthday Party,
In Retrospect,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultimate Spinach,
Maurizio,
Monks,
The Black Dice,
Hoover,
Gichy Dan,
Wire,
Deadbeat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
Maleditus Sound,
The Zeros,
Tres Demented,
Fat Boys,
Zero Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marvin Gaye,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
The Gun Club,
Vladislav Delay,
The Remains,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minutemen,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
Alphaville,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Black Pus,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.