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 United Kingdom and from Tehran.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 Andrew Hill to the disco 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Agitation Free,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bush Tetras,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
The Moleskins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Accadde A,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scott Walker,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Divine Comedy,
ABBA,
Black Flag,
Barry Ungar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sonics,
Quando Quango,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eddi Front,
The Count Five,
the Association,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Christie,
Pulsallama,
Dual Sessions,
John Foxx,
Scratch Acid,
Symarip,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Victims,
The Remains,
Albert Ayler,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
The American Breed,
The Red Krayola,
The Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlback,
Main Source,
Kaleidoscope,
Panda Bear,
The Cowsills,
Saccharine Trust,
The Tremeloes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fatback Band,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.