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 Korea North and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dead Boys to the crunk 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape 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?
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
Pharoah Sanders,
Circle Jerks,
X-102,
Rufus Thomas,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
Warsaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Kaleidoscope,
The Kinks,
Kenny Larkin,
Stockholm Monsters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Maurizio,
Ten City,
Sällskapet,
The Star Department,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kas Product,
Eric Copeland,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echospace,
Roxy Music,
L. Decosne,
Peter & Gordon,
Lyres,
Andrew Hill,
The Misunderstood,
The Durutti Column,
Brand Nubian,
The Blues Magoos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
New Age Steppers,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
Cymande,
Rosa Yemen,
the Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
The Seeds,
Yellowson,
The Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Severed Heads,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
Donny Hathaway,
Eden Ahbez,
Parry Music,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.