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 Laos and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 B.T. Express to the crunk 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Dual Sessions,
Minutemen,
Second Layer,
Junior Murvin,
The Raincoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cymande,
The Blackbyrds,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Banda Bassotti,
Soulsonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amazonics,
Television Personalities,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Whodini,
The Gladiators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
In Retrospect,
Dennis Brown,
Das Ding,
the Swans,
David McCallum,
the Association,
Yellowson,
Reagan Youth,
Camberwell Now,
John Holt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
Arcadia,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
10cc,
The Dave Clark Five,
Smog,
The Star Department,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Neu!,
Jandek,
Amon Düül,
Yazoo,
UT,
Absolute Body Control,
Lightning Bolt,
Motorama,
The Slackers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bad Manners,
Wire,
Sam Rivers,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.