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 Malaysia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Pantaleimon,
Slick Rick,
Shoche,
Oneida,
Derrick Morgan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Joey Negro,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
Magazine,
Bill Wells,
Trumans Water,
Ossler,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick May,
Marshall Jefferson,
Malaria!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minny Pops,
Blossom Toes,
Country Teasers,
Unrelated Segments,
Cameo,
Danielle Patucci,
Quadrant,
The Pretty Things,
Don Cherry,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Doors,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
One Last Wish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Khruangbin,
Scratch Acid,
H. Thieme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barrington Levy,
Grey Daturas,
Gang of Four,
The Remains,
Amon Düül II,
Radiopuhelimet,
Freddie Wadling,
Supertramp,
A Certain Ratio,
Sixth Finger,
Juan Atkins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Count Five,
Big Daddy Kane,
The United States of America,
Public Enemy,
The Mojo Men,
Masters at Work,
Whodini,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.