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 Guinea-Bissau and from Johannesburg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rap 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
the Normal,
Talk Talk,
Circle Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Reagan Youth,
Scientists,
Thompson Twins,
Amazonics,
Alton Ellis,
Clear Light,
Derrick Morgan,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Pagans,
The Happenings,
The Misunderstood,
Los Fastidios,
Excepter,
Erykah Badu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sandy B,
Whodini,
Carl Craig,
Loose Ends,
Anthony Braxton,
Roxette,
Gang of Four,
the Sonics,
Shuggie Otis,
Leonard Cohen,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radio Birdman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arcadia,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantaleimon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rod Modell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Music Machine,
Kas Product,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Todd Terry,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Thee Headcoats,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
a-ha,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fire Engines,
Deepchord,
Metal Thangz,
Sun City Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.