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 Vanuatu and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rhythm & Sound to the dance 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Slackers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jeff Lynne,
Panda Bear,
Rakim,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Fat Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DNA,
Pylon,
Peter & Gordon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Christie,
Sonic Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Flag,
Alison Limerick,
The Skatalites,
Cybotron,
The Cramps,
Kayak,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anakelly,
Pussy Galore,
K-Klass,
Delta 5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Essential Logic,
LL Cool J,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Joey Negro,
T.S.O.L.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pole,
Stetsasonic,
The Barracudas,
Peter and Kerry,
One Last Wish,
Yusef Lateef,
Young Marble Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Kaleidoscope,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.