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 Andorra and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Morten Harket to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fear,
The Fall,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
The Associates,
Jeff Lynne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
X-101,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Soft Cell,
DJ Style,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Buzzcocks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eli Mardock,
Black Bananas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pulsallama,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Raincoats,
Technova,
The American Breed,
Lightning Bolt,
Ronnie Foster,
Franke,
The Selecter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barrington Levy,
Surgeon,
Gong,
Grey Daturas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ohio Players,
Max Romeo,
Morten Harket,
the Fania All-Stars,
Inner City,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
Bad Manners,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Qualms,
Parry Music,
The J.B.'s,
Porter Ricks,
Hoover,
John Holt,
Todd Rundgren,
Mission of Burma,
Goldenarms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.