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 Swaziland and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Theoretical Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake,
The Music Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
Ludus,
Stetsasonic,
Sparks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Starr,
Barbara Tucker,
World's Most,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jawbox,
ABC,
D'Angelo,
The Names,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sarah Menescal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brothers Johnson,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
the Germs,
Rekid,
The Last Poets,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Rakim,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Monolake,
Yusef Lateef,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Hood,
In Retrospect,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cure,
Peter and Kerry,
Radiohead,
Joyce Sims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Massinfluence,
Aaron Thompson,
The Misunderstood,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.