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 Turkey 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Fugs,
Funkadelic,
Al Stewart,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Lightning Bolt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swans,
Rufus Thomas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Green,
Stockholm Monsters,
Howard Jones,
Surgeon,
Y Pants,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Susan Cadogan,
The Real Kids,
Moebius,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronnie Foster,
Can,
Lucky Dragons,
Dual Sessions,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
Silicon Teens,
Alphaville,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Copeland,
Arthur Verocai,
Wasted Youth,
The Slackers,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
The Cramps,
China Crisis,
Robert Görl,
Boogie Down Productions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Skriet,
The Offenders,
The Modern Lovers,
Lyres,
Crooked Eye,
Duran Duran,
Visage,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Wyatt,
Barry Ungar,
Animal Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Chrome,
Make Up,
Country Teasers,
the Fania All-Stars,
AZ,
Scott Walker,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.