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 Zambia and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Walker Brothers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Quantec,
The Blues Magoos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Hill,
The Fuzztones,
Don Cherry,
Eric Dolphy,
Sam Rivers,
The Golliwogs,
Ten City,
Scan 7,
Marvin Gaye,
Hot Snakes,
The Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
Amon Düül II,
Subhumans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Carl Craig,
Suicide,
The Pretty Things,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Holt,
Blancmange,
Franke,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Mission of Burma,
Roxy Music,
Interpol,
The Grass Roots,
Malaria!,
Loose Ends,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Nils Olav,
Audionom,
Connie Case,
Donny Hathaway,
James White and The Blacks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
Gong,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quadrant,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Soft Machine,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.