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 Armenia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Underground Resistance to the techno 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lungfish,
the Association,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dual Sessions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heaven 17,
Skarface,
The Fugs,
X-102,
Average White Band,
Stiv Bators,
Goldenarms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter & Gordon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Carl Craig,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Alphaville,
Todd Rundgren,
Warsaw,
Morten Harket,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
E-Dancer,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Bobby Womack,
Dave Gahan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eddi Front,
Kerri Chandler,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
The Golliwogs,
Freddie Wadling,
10cc,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Swans,
David Bowie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nick Fraelich,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roger Hodgson,
Basic Channel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DNA,
The Move,
Al Stewart,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.