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 Taiwan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Lille and Paris.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Archie Shepp to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Swans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mummies,
Janne Schatter,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
Donald Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
The Gories,
Chrome,
Marmalade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rekid,
The Grass Roots,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joensuu 1685,
Suicide,
The Tremeloes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Sherman,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
Scan 7,
ABC,
Q and Not U,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
PIL,
Crash Course in Science,
Roy Ayers,
Adolescents,
Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Brass Construction,
The Smiths,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
New York Dolls,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Altered Images,
Dawn Penn,
Scrapy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The J.B.'s,
The Invisible,
Wire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ossler,
The Raincoats,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
Intrusion,
Bob Dylan,
Kurtis Blow,
The Buckinghams,
Second Layer,
The Angels of Light,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.