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 Cyprus and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jesper Dahlback to the techno 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Black Bananas,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Swans,
Loose Ends,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
Nils Olav,
The Knickerbockers,
Boredoms,
Audionom,
Barrington Levy,
Kayak,
Todd Rundgren,
Babytalk,
The Mummies,
Bill Near,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radiopuhelimet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pagans,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis,
Bobby Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Youth Brigade,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Funkadelic,
The Standells,
Drive Like Jehu,
a-ha,
Man Parrish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boz Scaggs,
Nas,
Amazonics,
Gang of Four,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minny Pops,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crime,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Model 500,
Ken Boothe,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Zeros,
Soul II Soul,
Alton Ellis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boogie Down Productions,
Parry Music,
The Associates,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.