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 Norway and from Milan.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Tim Buckley to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Janne Schatter,
Funkadelic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Sonics,
The Litter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang of Four,
Duran Duran,
Franke,
Black Bananas,
The Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Y Pants,
The Knickerbockers,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
Organ,
The Toasters,
Pantytec,
JFA,
Carl Craig,
Lee Hazlewood,
Patti Smith,
Simply Red,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Desert Stars,
Mandrill,
Slave,
Grauzone,
The Fuzztones,
Cecil Taylor,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jawbox,
Lightning Bolt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Young Marble Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Con Funk Shun,
Boogie Down Productions,
Monks,
Adolescents,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lalann,
John Foxx,
Motorama,
Reagan Youth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minnie Riperton,
Brass Construction,
Minor Threat,
The Mojo Men,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Trojans,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.