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 Somalia and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Leonard Cohen to the electroclash 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Vladislav Delay,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
Schoolly D,
Aswad,
The Young Rascals,
Scott Walker,
the Association,
Lucky Dragons,
The Move,
a-ha,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moss Icon,
Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Shoche,
Cameo,
Minnie Riperton,
Essential Logic,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Juan Atkins,
The Martian,
James White and The Blacks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Motorama,
Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
Nik Kershaw,
the Slits,
Supertramp,
Eurythmics,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Womack,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Raincoats,
Unwound,
Sonic Youth,
Interpol,
R.M.O.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Tremeloes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q and Not U,
Sam Rivers,
Pere Ubu,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
Toni Rubio,
E-Dancer,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boredoms,
Charles Mingus,
Byron Stingily,
Black Sheep,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.