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 Egypt and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tears for Fears to the disco 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
The Slits,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Certain Ratio,
Ituana,
MDC,
The United States of America,
The Tremeloes,
Albert Ayler,
Saccharine Trust,
Anthony Braxton,
The Music Machine,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Loose Ends,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
Q65,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacques Brel,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Sherman,
The Misunderstood,
CMW,
Eve St. Jones,
Easy Going,
Marine Girls,
David Bowie,
Jeru the Damaja,
The American Breed,
Darondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fugs,
R.M.O.,
The Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Half Japanese,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boz Scaggs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Absolute Body Control,
Howard Jones,
Jawbox,
Lou Christie,
Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Delta 5,
The Evens,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cecil Taylor,
Talk Talk,
Country Teasers,
Livin' Joy,
Yellowson,
Black Bananas,
Todd Terry,
Lower 48,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.