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 Botswana and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the crunk 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Chris & Cosey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DNA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fuzztones,
Mark Hollis,
The New Christs,
Absolute Body Control,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Sparks,
Dennis Brown,
The Barracudas,
Blake Baxter,
Yazoo,
The Slackers,
Derrick May,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Simply Red,
The Sound,
The Remains,
Faraquet,
Agitation Free,
Babytalk,
Roxette,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Wake,
Spandau Ballet,
Susan Cadogan,
Althea and Donna,
New Age Steppers,
Zero Boys,
The Invisible,
Howard Jones,
Vainqueur,
Bill Near,
Accadde A,
Magazine,
New York Dolls,
Barbara Tucker,
Fat Boys,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cybotron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mr. Review,
Audionom,
Ohio Players,
World's Most,
Mandrill,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.