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 Malawi 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mary Jane Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Clear Light,
Susan Cadogan,
Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Easy Going,
cv313,
Guru Guru,
The Vogues,
Accadde A,
Faraquet,
Minutemen,
Junior Murvin,
Kenny Larkin,
H. Thieme,
Vainqueur,
Babytalk,
Ten City,
Bad Manners,
Thompson Twins,
The Divine Comedy,
Suburban Knight,
Nirvana,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
Michelle Simonal,
John Cale,
Kas Product,
CMW,
The Remains,
Big Daddy Kane,
The United States of America,
Lakeside,
Cheater Slicks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Section 25,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu,
The Slackers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
JFA,
The Smiths,
Gong,
a-ha,
Blancmange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Albert Ayler,
Tommy Roe,
Duran Duran,
Flipper,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
The Black Dice,
Circle Jerks,
The Litter,
Howard Jones,
Alice Coltrane,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.