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 Antigua and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the rap 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Starr,
Accadde A,
Peter and Kerry,
The Five Americans,
Mantronix,
Andrew Hill,
Fat Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blossom Toes,
Neil Young,
X-102,
the Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
Reagan Youth,
In Retrospect,
Rufus Thomas,
R.M.O.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tres Demented,
Robert Hood,
Y Pants,
The Litter,
Kaleidoscope,
Carl Craig,
The Blackbyrds,
John Holt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deepchord,
Kenny Larkin,
The Selecter,
Fear,
The Motions,
Archie Shepp,
OOIOO,
Lou Christie,
Deadbeat,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxette,
The Barracudas,
New Age Steppers,
Organ,
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
X-101,
Monolake,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Livin' Joy,
the Swans,
Boredoms,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.