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 Guyana and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Bobby Byrd to the rap 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
the Germs,
Jeff Lynne,
Sixth Finger,
Franke,
KRS-One,
Barrington Levy,
Black Bananas,
the Bar-Kays,
Mark Hollis,
Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Ossler,
Quantec,
Todd Rundgren,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Morten Harket,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visage,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
48th St. Collective,
The Alarm Clocks,
Q and Not U,
The Mojo Men,
Parry Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Groovy Waters,
The Trojans,
Ponytail,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sam Rivers,
Negative Approach,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quadrant,
The Raincoats,
Godley & Creme,
Sällskapet,
Glenn Branca,
Danielle Patucci,
Panda Bear,
Slick Rick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Henry Cow,
Minny Pops,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.