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 Singapore and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ludus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Bill Near,
The Red Krayola,
Supertramp,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
The Toasters,
Black Sheep,
Agent Orange,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Maurizio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bad Manners,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Happenings,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Görl,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Saccharine Trust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Swell Maps,
Ornette Coleman,
Banda Bassotti,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Remains,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronan,
Warsaw,
Main Source,
MDC,
Scott Walker,
In Retrospect,
Prince Buster,
The Velvet Underground,
Rotary Connection,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Easy Going,
Pagans,
Loose Ends,
The Human League,
The Motions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neu!,
Kerri Chandler,
Carl Craig,
Cal Tjader,
10cc,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tom Boy,
UT,
The Golliwogs,
The Monks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.