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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
China Crisis,
the Swans,
Guru Guru,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Susan Cadogan,
Model 500,
Ken Boothe,
Cybotron,
Sonic Youth,
Carl Craig,
Swans,
Groovy Waters,
The Vogues,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Make Up,
Kerri Chandler,
Bauhaus,
Little Man,
T. Rex,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
John Lydon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
La Düsseldorf,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
Average White Band,
Con Funk Shun,
The Toasters,
Fad Gadget,
Ralphi Rosario,
Janne Schatter,
Joe Smooth,
Faust,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour,
The Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nico,
Television Personalities,
Youth Brigade,
Basic Channel,
Camberwell Now,
Circle Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gichy Dan,
The Velvet Underground,
Moebius,
The Motions,
Sight & Sound,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.