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 Argentina and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tres Demented to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Pole,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suicide,
Slave,
Crime,
Malaria!,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nas,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
Altered Images,
Mark Hollis,
Todd Terry,
The Wake,
John Cale,
cv313,
The Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Interpol,
The Toasters,
Wally Richardson,
Fugazi,
Los Fastidios,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
Thee Headcoats,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
The Grass Roots,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Clarke,
Absolute Body Control,
Royal Trux,
Depeche Mode,
Can,
Adolescents,
Crooked Eye,
Second Layer,
The Leaves,
Sixth Finger,
Con Funk Shun,
The Moody Blues,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stereo Dub,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Carl Craig,
The Selecter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mandrill,
Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
FM Einheit,
Maurizio,
Franke,
Average White Band,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
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.