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 Cambodia and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Archie Shepp to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Slick Rick,
Mission of Burma,
Deadbeat,
Unrelated Segments,
Slave,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mandrill,
Infiniti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nils Olav,
Suicide,
the Association,
Model 500,
Bronski Beat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alice Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Country Teasers,
Kayak,
Theoretical Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
The Move,
Marshall Jefferson,
Darondo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronan,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
L. Decosne,
The Tremeloes,
Tim Buckley,
Television,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Danielle Patucci,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
Juan Atkins,
Accadde A,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dual Sessions,
Ossler,
Amon Düül,
Erasure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Bar-Kays,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Flash Fearless,
June Days,
Au Pairs,
The Remains,
Excepter,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.