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 Kazakhstan and from Jakarta.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Panda Bear to the electroclash 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
The Smiths,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Hood,
Lightning Bolt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
Deepchord,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rosa Yemen,
Public Enemy,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell,
Charles Mingus,
John Foxx,
World's Most,
Kool Moe Dee,
L. Decosne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Boz Scaggs,
These Immortal Souls,
Alphaville,
The Cowsills,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
the Association,
Carl Craig,
Bauhaus,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kerri Chandler,
Byron Stingily,
T. Rex,
June Days,
Lindisfarne,
Avey Tare,
Lucky Dragons,
Morten Harket,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
Con Funk Shun,
Essential Logic,
AZ,
Metal Thangz,
Barrington Levy,
Patti Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dave Gahan,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultra Naté,
Von Mondo,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.