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 Chile and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
June Days,
Eli Mardock,
Tom Boy,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aural Exciters,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marvin Gaye,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
UT,
ABBA,
Black Bananas,
Jeff Mills,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Carl Craig,
The Names,
Babytalk,
Blake Baxter,
The Techniques,
The Gap Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
David Bowie,
Audionom,
Tommy Roe,
The United States of America,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ten City,
The Music Machine,
Sonic Youth,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
Idris Muhammad,
T.S.O.L.,
The Martian,
Minnie Riperton,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Ultravox,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.