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 Dominica and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Henry Cow to the jazz 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Motorama,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
Crime,
DJ Style,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
The Barracudas,
The Angels of Light,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Toasters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liliput,
The Tremeloes,
David Axelrod,
Sight & Sound,
Todd Terry,
U.S. Maple,
Altered Images,
Dennis Brown,
Don Cherry,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Standells,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lucky Dragons,
Prince Buster,
Duran Duran,
The Red Krayola,
a-ha,
Shoche,
Country Teasers,
Graham Central Station,
Scion,
Flipper,
Roger Hodgson,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sparks,
Al Stewart,
Pantaleimon,
The J.B.'s,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Pus,
The Gap Band,
The Durutti Column,
Juan Atkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deakin,
Lalann,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Green,
Yusef Lateef,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.