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 Liberia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Khruangbin to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Ohio Players,
Vladislav Delay,
T.S.O.L.,
The Young Rascals,
New Age Steppers,
Ronnie Foster,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
Suicide,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tommy Roe,
Davy DMX,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Associates,
A Certain Ratio,
Urselle,
Erasure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Enemy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris & Cosey,
Mo-Dettes,
The Grass Roots,
Los Fastidios,
Cybotron,
Con Funk Shun,
the Bar-Kays,
Siglo XX,
Television Personalities,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Sheep,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gichy Dan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rekid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oblivians,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deakin,
Brand Nubian,
Neil Young,
Q65,
Heaven 17,
Barry Ungar,
Aaron Thompson,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.