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 South Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Holger Czukay 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 Jeff Mills to the rap 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Tubeway Army,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Simply Red,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Liliput,
Eric Copeland,
Nils Olav,
Severed Heads,
Niagra,
Qualms,
JFA,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Au Pairs,
The Birthday Party,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Human League,
The Count Five,
The Vogues,
Ice-T,
Radio Birdman,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Fluxion,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
Surgeon,
Howard Jones,
The Real Kids,
Hardrive,
KRS-One,
The Evens,
MDC,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter & Gordon,
T. Rex,
Black Moon,
Smog,
The Red Krayola,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fugs,
Cybotron,
The Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Bowie,
Wire,
Gang Green,
The Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.