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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Godley & Creme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Second Layer,
Inner City,
Jeru the Damaja,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pantaleimon,
Minutemen,
Harmonia,
L. Decosne,
John Foxx,
Warsaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra,
Monks,
Scion,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Soft Cell,
Urselle,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Parry Music,
Davy DMX,
Procol Harum,
Au Pairs,
E-Dancer,
Spoonie Gee,
Los Fastidios,
Ice-T,
Aural Exciters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lou Christie,
Zero Boys,
The New Christs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang of Four,
Kenny Larkin,
Circle Jerks,
X-101,
Delta 5,
Visage,
Pagans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar,
Sight & Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nik Kershaw,
T.S.O.L.,
Loose Ends,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
The Selecter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Busters,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.