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 Italy 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harmonia to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tim Buckley,
Intrusion,
Jacob Miller,
Grauzone,
Ultra Naté,
Anakelly,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
The New Christs,
Alice Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
Rapeman,
Soft Machine,
The Leaves,
Lalann,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy Collins,
Hot Snakes,
Joyce Sims,
The Motions,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Prunes,
The Doors,
The Sound,
D'Angelo,
Moss Icon,
Don Cherry,
Unrelated Segments,
Ossler,
Rod Modell,
Arcadia,
Khruangbin,
Newcleus,
Connie Case,
Jandek,
Smog,
Minny Pops,
The Residents,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
Colin Newman,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.