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 Costa Rica and from Bologna.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Warsaw,
Intrusion,
Grauzone,
Kas Product,
Tres Demented,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang of Four,
L. Decosne,
Iggy Pop,
Severed Heads,
Josef K,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Oneida,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doors,
Animal Collective,
Bootsy Collins,
Fat Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roxy Music,
Main Source,
Television Personalities,
Mars,
The Mojo Men,
Trumans Water,
Eurythmics,
The Offenders,
John Cale,
Smog,
Bobby Byrd,
Little Man,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cheater Slicks,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Symarip,
The Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
The Smoke,
The Names,
David McCallum,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fluxion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Y Pants,
Alice Coltrane,
Roger Hodgson,
Dual Sessions,
Brand Nubian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Swell Maps,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.