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 Palau and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rock 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Judy Mowatt,
Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boredoms,
Accadde A,
Make Up,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fuzztones,
Franke,
The Names,
Flamin' Groovies,
Don Cherry,
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers,
Arcadia,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Morten Harket,
These Immortal Souls,
The Velvet Underground,
Harry Pussy,
Cal Tjader,
Delta 5,
Fugazi,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
Shoche,
Crooked Eye,
The Five Americans,
Patti Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
Amazonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Symarip,
Dual Sessions,
The Vogues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amon Düül II,
Negative Approach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kaleidoscope,
Barrington Levy,
Stiv Bators,
Pole,
D'Angelo,
Peter & Gordon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The New Christs,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
Motorama,
June Days,
T. Rex,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.