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 Ecuador and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
James White and The Blacks,
Brick,
Tres Demented,
Second Layer,
Alison Limerick,
Procol Harum,
The Dead C,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Neu!,
June Days,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Television,
MC5,
Harmonia,
DNA,
The Names,
Blossom Toes,
Gichy Dan,
Infiniti,
Maurizio,
The Move,
Nirvana,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacob Miller,
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Rundgren,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick Morgan,
Sight & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agent Orange,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Josef K,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amazonics,
Brass Construction,
Eurythmics,
The Zeros,
Sällskapet,
Erasure,
Kerri Chandler,
Quantec,
Au Pairs,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.