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 Liberia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 JFA to the crunk 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rufus Thomas,
Technova,
Moss Icon,
The Gladiators,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The United States of America,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
Drexciya,
The J.B.'s,
Tubeway Army,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Standells,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fuzztones,
Agitation Free,
Nick Fraelich,
Blancmange,
Mr. Review,
Toni Rubio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Malaria!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Shoche,
UT,
Parry Music,
10cc,
Alton Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
Yaz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yellowson,
The Wake,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rites of Spring,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Erykah Badu,
Joyce Sims,
Flipper,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suicide,
Man Parrish,
Massinfluence,
Warren Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brick,
Pussy Galore,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gastr Del Sol,
Derrick Morgan,
Fela Kuti,
Section 25,
Sarah Menescal,
Supertramp,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.