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 Costa Rica and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 Last Poets to the disco 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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet 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 marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Fear,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magazine,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
Josef K,
The Victims,
Shuggie Otis,
The Tremeloes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Young Rascals,
AZ,
Mars,
Pussy Galore,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Adolescents,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sällskapet,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
The Standells,
The Blues Magoos,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Depeche Mode,
John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Camouflage,
June Days,
Unrelated Segments,
Skaos,
Swell Maps,
Section 25,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
Desert Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monks,
Toni Rubio,
Bill Near,
Half Japanese,
Yaz,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fugazi,
The Evens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Oneida,
Mo-Dettes,
Scientists,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.