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 Ecuador and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 Blancmange to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Hill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Names,
Sexual Harrassment,
One Last Wish,
Peter and Kerry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
Funkadelic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
China Crisis,
10cc,
Arcadia,
DJ Style,
Scratch Acid,
Max Romeo,
Ken Boothe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Slave,
Prince Buster,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Litter,
Zapp,
Fatback Band,
Essential Logic,
Brick,
Yellowson,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Das Ding,
The Toasters,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick Morgan,
Brothers Johnson,
The Misunderstood,
Popol Vuh,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeff Lynne,
Altered Images,
Piero Umiliani,
Kaleidoscope,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Aswad,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Desert Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
The Doors,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chrome,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.