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 Singapore and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Marmalade to the jazz 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
PIL,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blancmange,
Television,
The Modern Lovers,
The Busters,
Stereo Dub,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gladiators,
Livin' Joy,
Rakim,
The Raincoats,
Wolf Eyes,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
Rites of Spring,
Lindisfarne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Infiniti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Shadows of Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anthony Braxton,
The Associates,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ten City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Near,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
OOIOO,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Index,
Black Pus,
Kayak,
The Angels of Light,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
the Fania All-Stars,
Whodini,
Flash Fearless,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Wire,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Hood,
Duran Duran,
AZ,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Golliwogs,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.