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 Equatorial Guinea and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gladiators 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DJ Sneak,
Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hot Snakes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
Pantytec,
Funkadelic,
Sonic Youth,
The Techniques,
The Barracudas,
Zapp,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pretty Things,
Hardrive,
Roxette,
Little Man,
Aswad,
Leonard Cohen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Althea and Donna,
Black Moon,
Isaac Hayes,
Magazine,
Panda Bear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Icehouse,
DJ Style,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Laurel Aitken,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Move,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
Lyres,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
Kas Product,
Gang Starr,
LL Cool J,
James White and The Blacks,
Scan 7,
David Axelrod,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
Shoche,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bob Dylan,
Crash Course in Science,
the Normal,
F. McDonald,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tres Demented,
Q and Not U,
Bill Wells,
Joe Smooth,
The J.B.'s,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.