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 Malaysia and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kerrie Biddell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
The Cramps,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Magma,
Scan 7,
The Leaves,
Warren Ellis,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grandmaster Flash,
cv313,
Ponytail,
The United States of America,
Davy DMX,
Livin' Joy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aaron Thompson,
Mandrill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Hood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kas Product,
EPMD,
Fugazi,
Surgeon,
Connie Case,
The Fall,
Gong,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Sheep,
The New Christs,
Ohio Players,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mad Mike,
Reuben Wilson,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott Heron,
Darondo,
Deepchord,
Underground Resistance,
Donald Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Little Man,
Crime,
The Blackbyrds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Clear Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
Danielle Patucci,
Sam Rivers,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Finger,
Slave,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.