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 Liberia and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jandek to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Roger Hodgson,
Fela Kuti,
The Buckinghams,
the Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Ohio Players,
Yusef Lateef,
Morten Harket,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
Severed Heads,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Modern Lovers,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Blues Magoos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Silicon Teens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Derrick May,
Harmonia,
Brand Nubian,
Donald Byrd,
Stiv Bators,
Symarip,
Khruangbin,
Japan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Spoonie Gee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
cv313,
These Immortal Souls,
The Offenders,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Livin' Joy,
Grey Daturas,
Sex Pistols,
Toni Rubio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Bananas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blackbyrds,
Aloha Tigers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aural Exciters,
Organ,
The Mummies,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.