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 Uruguay and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Skatalites to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Section 25,
Franke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Busters,
Pantytec,
Susan Cadogan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
Animal Collective,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Moody Blues,
K-Klass,
Basic Channel,
The Dirtbombs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Parry Music,
Youth Brigade,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
The Zeros,
Barbara Tucker,
The Stooges,
Junior Murvin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moebius,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
The New Christs,
Y Pants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pylon,
Brand Nubian,
The Gories,
X-Ray Spex,
Neil Young,
Banda Bassotti,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
This Heat,
Roger Hodgson,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sound,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlback,
Magma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.