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 Hungary and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Jeru the Damaja,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
Arab on Radar,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-102,
Swans,
Supertramp,
Fad Gadget,
Rekid,
Aloha Tigers,
the Soft Cell,
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
Davy DMX,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Evens,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Kinks,
Deakin,
Monks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Make Up,
Fluxion,
The Moody Blues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wolf Eyes,
Radiohead,
Barry Ungar,
Cybotron,
Colin Newman,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fire Engines,
Eric Dolphy,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Andrew Hill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry's Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mandrill,
Aural Exciters,
Sex Pistols,
The Tremeloes,
Desert Stars,
China Crisis,
Moby Grape,
Derrick May,
Albert Ayler,
The Divine Comedy,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soulsonic Force,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
Lakeside,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.