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 Kazakhstan and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Star Department to the funk 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Kurtis Blow,
Eve St. Jones,
Magma,
Altered Images,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hasil Adkins,
Wally Richardson,
Terry Callier,
Oblivians,
Aloha Tigers,
U.S. Maple,
Scientists,
John Foxx,
Negative Approach,
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
In Retrospect,
Smog,
Niagra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-102,
Blossom Toes,
Brass Construction,
Faust,
Matthew Halsall,
Skaos,
Sam Rivers,
The Cramps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Martian,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nico,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
Section 25,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scion,
the Germs,
Suburban Knight,
David Axelrod,
Sixth Finger,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
Camberwell Now,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Barracudas,
The Offenders,
JFA,
Moby Grape,
B.T. Express,
Isaac Hayes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
The Selecter,
Loose Ends,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.