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 Czech Republic and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lower 48 to the dance 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
Ossler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
Moby Grape,
Pierre Henry,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Organ,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
The J.B.'s,
Bill Wells,
Inner City,
Godley & Creme,
Donald Byrd,
Supertramp,
The Barracudas,
Faust,
The Real Kids,
The Selecter,
Mandrill,
Zero Boys,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Malaria!,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
UT,
48th St. Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flipper,
Sun City Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Prince Buster,
Subhumans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Clarke,
Carl Craig,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Infiniti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Suburban Knight,
Faraquet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nation of Ulysses,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.