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 Suriname 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Charles Mingus to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Television Personalities,
Delta 5,
Parry Music,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Normal,
Technova,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Interpol,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Cell,
Eric Dolphy,
Can,
The Beau Brummels,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dead Boys,
F. McDonald,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Sherman,
Gong,
Mandrill,
Freddie Wadling,
The Last Poets,
Swell Maps,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter & Gordon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
La Düsseldorf,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monks,
Clear Light,
Spoonie Gee,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cluster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronnie Foster,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Reed,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Sneak,
Crooked Eye,
Bad Manners,
Glenn Branca,
The Motions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Index,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Offenders,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.