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 Samoa and from New York.
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 Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barry Ungar to the rock 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
The Five Americans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
Accadde A,
Nas,
Delta 5,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Howard Jones,
Thee Headcoats,
Donny Hathaway,
Y Pants,
The Modern Lovers,
David Bowie,
The Wake,
Absolute Body Control,
John Cale,
Supertramp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moby Grape,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mandrill,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Womack,
Angry Samoans,
Mo-Dettes,
Country Teasers,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Germs,
Shuggie Otis,
R.M.O.,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
Scion,
Suburban Knight,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Pretty Things,
Maleditus Sound,
Anakelly,
Index,
Jeff Mills,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Animal Collective,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.