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 Guatemala and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Niagra to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Jandek,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monks,
Joe Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
Erasure,
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
The Monochrome Set,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hardrive,
Black Sheep,
Stiv Bators,
Lungfish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris Corsano,
The Doors,
Marcia Griffiths,
Leonard Cohen,
Hashim,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus,
Gichy Dan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Bang On A Can,
Goldenarms,
Scratch Acid,
Los Fastidios,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Derrick May,
Khruangbin,
Morten Harket,
Peter and Kerry,
Alphaville,
Eli Mardock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
The Raincoats,
Jeru the Damaja,
10cc,
Ludus,
Gabor Szabo,
Section 25,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lyres,
Sight & Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Au Pairs,
The Fugs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rapeman,
the Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.