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 Ukraine and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 UT to the crunk 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Franke,
Pagans,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Grass Roots,
Brick,
Moebius,
Organ,
Livin' Joy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Modern Lovers,
Scientists,
Godley & Creme,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
This Heat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anakelly,
Darondo,
Marmalade,
OOIOO,
Y Pants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Television Personalities,
Cheater Slicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Basic Channel,
Ohio Players,
B.T. Express,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
The Associates,
Infiniti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
Vainqueur,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
The Skatalites,
X-101,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oblivians,
Ronan,
ABC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ralphi Rosario,
F. McDonald,
Arab on Radar,
The Cramps,
The Motions,
Pantytec,
The Blues Magoos,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.