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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Sonic Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Leaves,
Panda Bear,
Angry Samoans,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
Eric Copeland,
The Index,
Bronski Beat,
The Happenings,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vladislav Delay,
Technova,
the Human League,
Sight & Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Throbbing Gristle,
Altered Images,
Bootsy Collins,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cure,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Inner City,
Mission of Burma,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drexciya,
Von Mondo,
Pulsallama,
The Cramps,
The Litter,
Yusef Lateef,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ornette Coleman,
The Names,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
Sun Ra,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Selecter,
Howard Jones,
The Human League,
Electric Prunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cameo,
Sonic Youth,
The Gun Club,
Urselle,
Nico,
The Skatalites,
Lalann,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scratch Acid,
The Busters,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.