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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
Minor Threat,
Robert Hood,
Joe Smooth,
Alton Ellis,
Unrelated Segments,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
Cheater Slicks,
Heaven 17,
Faust,
Section 25,
Toni Rubio,
Piero Umiliani,
ABBA,
John Lydon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quando Quango,
Popol Vuh,
Camouflage,
Oblivians,
Robert Görl,
Yusef Lateef,
Little Man,
Harry Pussy,
Alison Limerick,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantaleimon,
Infiniti,
Lyres,
David Axelrod,
Radio Birdman,
Saccharine Trust,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Beau Brummels,
The Offenders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sister Nancy,
The Leaves,
Marcia Griffiths,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Shadows of Knight,
Accadde A,
Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
The Techniques,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
a-ha,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.