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 Sri Lanka and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 K-Klass to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sexual Harrassment,
Josef K,
Intrusion,
Joyce Sims,
The Skatalites,
Harmonia,
Nirvana,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Delta 5,
The Blues Magoos,
Scott Walker,
Scan 7,
The Offenders,
Lungfish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nick Fraelich,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skaos,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
Altered Images,
Radiohead,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gories,
The Gladiators,
Los Fastidios,
David Bowie,
Barrington Levy,
Eddi Front,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Easy Going,
Popol Vuh,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grey Daturas,
Severed Heads,
Nas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mark Hollis,
Brand Nubian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Alphaville,
The Dead C,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
Accadde A,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crash Course in Science,
Second Layer,
A Certain Ratio,
Young Marble Giants,
The Invisible,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Swans,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.