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 Uganda and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Supertramp,
The Toasters,
Urselle,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Stooges,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slackers,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Saints,
The Standells,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scratch Acid,
The Zeros,
Rapeman,
Robert Wyatt,
Make Up,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Average White Band,
Unwound,
The Count Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Order,
One Last Wish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Franke,
DNA,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Warren Ellis,
Neil Young,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slits,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül,
Crash Course in Science,
Isaac Hayes,
Arthur Verocai,
Can,
Blancmange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Slits,
Joe Smooth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Misunderstood,
Aural Exciters,
These Immortal Souls,
Dark Day,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scrapy,
Subhumans,
Gang of Four,
The Black Dice,
Peter and Kerry,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.