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 Andorra and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mars to the grime 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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Visage,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Wyatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeff Mills,
The Offenders,
Sonic Youth,
Trumans Water,
It's A Beautiful Day,
R.M.O.,
Brand Nubian,
Electric Prunes,
Glenn Branca,
Pere Ubu,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
Tom Boy,
Von Mondo,
The Barracudas,
CMW,
Audionom,
Mission of Burma,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Sherman,
ABBA,
K-Klass,
Procol Harum,
Fear,
Soft Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Silicon Teens,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chris & Cosey,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
The Last Poets,
Radio Birdman,
E-Dancer,
Bauhaus,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Khruangbin,
Black Moon,
Al Stewart,
Q65,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacques Brel,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
Intrusion,
Steve Hackett,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television Personalities,
Hot Snakes,
Funky Four + One,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.