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 San Marino and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Jimmy McGriff to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Deadbeat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Young Rascals,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bizarre Inc.,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantytec,
Nico,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
E-Dancer,
Zapp,
Subhumans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Henry Cow,
David McCallum,
Royal Trux,
The Happenings,
Rosa Yemen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
F. McDonald,
Slick Rick,
Banda Bassotti,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
the Bar-Kays,
B.T. Express,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash,
Spandau Ballet,
Japan,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül,
Prince Buster,
Mars,
Organ,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
Barrington Levy,
Stiv Bators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-Ray Spex,
Fugazi,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
The Beau Brummels,
The Walker Brothers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rod Modell,
Byron Stingily,
R.M.O.,
June of 44,
Donald Byrd,
Patti Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Con Funk Shun,
Supertramp,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.