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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang On A Can,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
T.S.O.L.,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Sneak,
John Cale,
Desert Stars,
MC5,
Black Sheep,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Au Pairs,
Nico,
Lou Reed,
Scrapy,
Simply Red,
Quantec,
Amazonics,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Porter Ricks,
Alton Ellis,
Rotary Connection,
Sly & The Family Stone,
FM Einheit,
The Offenders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Neil Young,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slick Rick,
Susan Cadogan,
Anakelly,
Derrick Morgan,
Roger Hodgson,
MDC,
The Raincoats,
Tubeway Army,
Eddi Front,
Altered Images,
Bill Wells,
The Smiths,
Clear Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scion,
Suicide,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fugazi,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.