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 Italy and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 Con Funk Shun to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Saccharine Trust,
ABBA,
John Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Popol Vuh,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Kurtis Blow,
Bronski Beat,
Flipper,
June of 44,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Soft Cell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mr. Review,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacob Miller,
The Skatalites,
The Litter,
Max Romeo,
Reagan Youth,
Cluster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Howard Jones,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-102,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gregory Isaacs,
Can,
Fela Kuti,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
The Buckinghams,
Wire,
Quadrant,
Henry Cow,
The Evens,
Echospace,
Q and Not U,
Lebanon Hanover,
F. McDonald,
Sun Ra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronan,
The Busters,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Dawn Penn,
Swell Maps,
Tomorrow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Trumans Water,
Basic Channel,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sällskapet,
Jandek,
The Seeds,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.