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 Eritrea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Evens to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David McCallum,
The Misunderstood,
Reagan Youth,
Warsaw,
Jawbox,
Iggy Pop,
Parry Music,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
Lou Christie,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Vogues,
Make Up,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Q65,
The Red Krayola,
New Order,
the Normal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Hot Snakes,
Gang Green,
The Mojo Men,
D'Angelo,
Wasted Youth,
Motorama,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
Lucky Dragons,
The Martian,
Scrapy,
Ronan,
Danielle Patucci,
DNA,
Marvin Gaye,
Don Cherry,
Grauzone,
Delta 5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantaleimon,
In Retrospect,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Residents,
Black Pus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Wyatt,
kango's stein massive,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
Wolf Eyes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Names,
Public Image Ltd.,
Organ,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.