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 Slovakia and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Essential Logic,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Music Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Ludus,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Lyres,
Niagra,
The Fall,
Agent Orange,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cameo,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun Ra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anakelly,
Infiniti,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
The Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Lindisfarne,
The Trojans,
The Remains,
Supertramp,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
Sugar Minott,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
Aaron Thompson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Flag,
X-Ray Spex,
The Busters,
June of 44,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Avey Tare,
Rakim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Charles Mingus,
ABC,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doors,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Can,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.