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 Albania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roger Hodgson,
Godley & Creme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
John Holt,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
Qualms,
The United States of America,
8 Eyed Spy,
Trumans Water,
Tres Demented,
The Black Dice,
The New Christs,
New Order,
Soul II Soul,
Fugazi,
Gerry Rafferty,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Infiniti,
Marshall Jefferson,
Laurel Aitken,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Circle Jerks,
Minutemen,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Niagra,
Jacob Miller,
Easy Going,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sugar Minott,
Jimmy McGriff,
Accadde A,
Alice Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fire Engines,
Whodini,
Eric Dolphy,
Chris & Cosey,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yellowson,
MC5,
Bush Tetras,
Connie Case,
The Vogues,
Chris Corsano,
Drexciya,
T. Rex,
Junior Murvin,
Newcleus,
Surgeon,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.