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 Finland and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
Echospace,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marmalade,
Supertramp,
Gong,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gap Band,
Icehouse,
The New Christs,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers,
Chris Corsano,
Parry Music,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
John Holt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Black Dice,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gories,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sarah Menescal,
Don Cherry,
Rotary Connection,
Soul II Soul,
Tommy Roe,
The Human League,
Flash Fearless,
Circle Jerks,
EPMD,
Stockholm Monsters,
Junior Murvin,
The Young Rascals,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Shoche,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nas,
The Count Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
JFA,
ABBA,
The Walker Brothers,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
U.S. Maple,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Wyatt,
The United States of America,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.