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 Mexico and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Donald Fagen 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 John Holt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxy Music,
Adolescents,
Lebanon Hanover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lungfish,
Slave,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Isaac Hayes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crooked Eye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mission of Burma,
Suicide,
Dual Sessions,
Scratch Acid,
Wings,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Moon,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
Monolake,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Sherman,
This Heat,
The Gap Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Trumans Water,
Essential Logic,
Lou Reed,
ABBA,
The Birthday Party,
Yazoo,
Camberwell Now,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smoke,
Siglo XX,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The American Breed,
Skriet,
Scan 7,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pole,
Funky Four + One,
Cheater Slicks,
Tim Buckley,
Funkadelic,
The Music Machine,
Howard Jones,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.