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 Tuvalu and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Dice to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Rapeman,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kayak,
Ponytail,
The Gories,
Monolake,
Harpers Bizarre,
Little Man,
Oneida,
DJ Sneak,
Mantronix,
Sugar Minott,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fortunes,
Tommy Roe,
The Invisible,
Derrick Morgan,
Deepchord,
The Monks,
Y Pants,
The Slackers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chrome,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aswad,
The Martian,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sarah Menescal,
The Saints,
Underground Resistance,
Junior Murvin,
Deadbeat,
The Sound,
The Grass Roots,
The Knickerbockers,
Lightning Bolt,
LL Cool J,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.