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 United States and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Residents,
The Detroit Cobras,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sandy B,
D'Angelo,
Quadrant,
Pantaleimon,
Graham Central Station,
The Litter,
John Lydon,
Joey Negro,
Eric Dolphy,
Gong,
China Crisis,
The Blues Magoos,
Marvin Gaye,
DNA,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sound,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Althea and Donna,
Dennis Brown,
Half Japanese,
Minny Pops,
Neu!,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül II,
Cybotron,
The New Christs,
Rakim,
Pagans,
The Fall,
the Bar-Kays,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
June of 44,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gladiators,
Todd Terry,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
Index,
Kaleidoscope,
The Music Machine,
Tommy Roe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
10cc,
Morten Harket,
Nick Fraelich,
Scion,
Pylon,
The Real Kids,
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
Lalann,
Inner City,
Average White Band,
Toni Rubio,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.