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 Latvia and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Robert Palmer 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 Faust to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doors,
Sun Ra,
Arcadia,
Laurel Aitken,
Duran Duran,
Kerri Chandler,
Minutemen,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
June Days,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Urselle,
Al Stewart,
The Names,
the Association,
Basic Channel,
Half Japanese,
Alphaville,
Robert Hood,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fugazi,
Suicide,
The Cramps,
Maurizio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
Ornette Coleman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cowsills,
Crooked Eye,
Kenny Larkin,
The Vogues,
The Music Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
Arthur Verocai,
The Saints,
Davy DMX,
Kayak,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Toni Rubio,
Alison Limerick,
Sixth Finger,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Last Poets,
Y Pants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.