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 Ethiopia and from Toronto.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gregory Isaacs to the electroclash 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Nico,
the Germs,
The Move,
Jerry's Kids,
Y Pants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scratch Acid,
Easy Going,
Lakeside,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
FM Einheit,
Derrick Morgan,
The Victims,
Animal Collective,
Tropical Tobacco,
Silicon Teens,
Steve Hackett,
The Pop Group,
The Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gories,
Alphaville,
The Blues Magoos,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ponytail,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Slits,
John Coltrane,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gladiators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Q and Not U,
Sonic Youth,
Guru Guru,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Fatback Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gong,
The Selecter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Index,
The Searchers,
The Happenings,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Don Cherry,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra,
Funky Four + One,
Black Flag,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.