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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Desert Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Buckinghams,
Subhumans,
the Human League,
Slick Rick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marvin Gaye,
Con Funk Shun,
Excepter,
The Dirtbombs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Model 500,
Bill Near,
ABBA,
Young Marble Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Fugazi,
June of 44,
Cheater Slicks,
Crime,
Sparks,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
Gichy Dan,
Magma,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick May,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Warsaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Royal Trux,
Throbbing Gristle,
Goldenarms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Kas Product,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gun Club,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Interpol,
Arab on Radar,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
PIL,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
Visage,
Au Pairs,
Donald Byrd,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.