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 El Salvador and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Holger Czukay 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 Arab on Radar to the funk 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Parrish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Henry Cow,
The Golliwogs,
Kayak,
Minutemen,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Mummies,
Jeff Mills,
Yusef Lateef,
These Immortal Souls,
La Düsseldorf,
Massinfluence,
Prince Buster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
cv313,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skriet,
The Sonics,
Anakelly,
Mantronix,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tres Demented,
Blancmange,
CMW,
Nirvana,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suicide,
Minnie Riperton,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mary Jane Girls,
MDC,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Cluster,
Eurythmics,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
Kenny Larkin,
the Human League,
Kaleidoscope,
The Leaves,
Iggy Pop,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
U.S. Maple,
June Days,
Agent Orange,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Glenn Branca,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
Joensuu 1685,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.