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 Rwanda and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yellowson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Mills,
Swell Maps,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agitation Free,
Rod Modell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Duran Duran,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Grauzone,
Ornette Coleman,
Brothers Johnson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultravox,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Au Pairs,
Bauhaus,
Black Pus,
Sällskapet,
Intrusion,
The Happenings,
48th St. Collective,
Terry Callier,
Supertramp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monochrome Set,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Ponytail,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Man Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near,
The Fugs,
Andrew Hill,
Cybotron,
Sight & Sound,
ABC,
U.S. Maple,
The Slits,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
One Last Wish,
Robert Wyatt,
Adolescents,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pussy Galore,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Slick Rick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.