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 Chad and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Soft Cell to the disco 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
The Trojans,
Pylon,
Crime,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
Marvin Gaye,
Arcadia,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Gregory Isaacs,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Sparks,
Unwound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
The Searchers,
Connie Case,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Magma,
Ultravox,
Section 25,
Neu!,
The Moody Blues,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
Popol Vuh,
Cal Tjader,
Cameo,
Black Flag,
The Moleskins,
Harmonia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marmalade,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lakeside,
Brand Nubian,
U.S. Maple,
Sonic Youth,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed,
Organ,
John Lydon,
Dawn Penn,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.