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 Jordan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the techno 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Adolescents,
Don Cherry,
Gichy Dan,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Fugazi,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Bananas,
The Monks,
Black Moon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skarface,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arcadia,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Hashim,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed,
Agent Orange,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
The Leaves,
Skaos,
The Searchers,
Visage,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Zeros,
the Association,
Charles Mingus,
Pantytec,
Moss Icon,
Andrew Hill,
Sister Nancy,
Ultravox,
Flipper,
Eve St. Jones,
The Victims,
Lebanon Hanover,
Idris Muhammad,
Crispy Ambulance,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
the Slits,
Au Pairs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minutemen,
Aural Exciters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Johnny Clarke,
Shoche,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.