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 Japan and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the crunk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Smog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dual Sessions,
Altered Images,
The Litter,
The J.B.'s,
Albert Ayler,
The Monks,
Lalann,
Thee Headcoats,
Malaria!,
Shoche,
The Names,
Moebius,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Residents,
Funkadelic,
The Gap Band,
Porter Ricks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
Scion,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minny Pops,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiopuhelimet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yaz,
the Soft Cell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Doobie Brothers,
Animal Collective,
Ornette Coleman,
The Walker Brothers,
Inner City,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
Ultra Naté,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Laurel Aitken,
Visage,
Minor Threat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hashim,
Eurythmics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Real Kids,
Oneida,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Suburban Knight,
John Cale,
Simply Red,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.