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 Netherlands and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Leaves to the grunge 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Last Poets,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Remains,
Bob Dylan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
The Gap Band,
Index,
The Misunderstood,
Underground Resistance,
Scan 7,
Adolescents,
Inner City,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eric Dolphy,
Kas Product,
Khruangbin,
Patti Smith,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Whodini,
Supertramp,
Saccharine Trust,
Buzzcocks,
Neil Young,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Starr,
Donald Byrd,
Ohio Players,
Oblivians,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Wake,
Soulsonic Force,
This Heat,
New Order,
Aswad,
CMW,
The Techniques,
Alton Ellis,
Deadbeat,
Connie Case,
Q and Not U,
the Fania All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Deakin,
The Move,
Massinfluence,
Monolake,
The Smiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.