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 Burkina and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the grunge 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Bang On A Can,
Flash Fearless,
The Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
the Normal,
The Dirtbombs,
Henry Cow,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Trumans Water,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rosa Yemen,
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hasil Adkins,
Supertramp,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacques Brel,
T. Rex,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
Groovy Waters,
The Birthday Party,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Guru Guru,
The Barracudas,
Harry Pussy,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Victims,
The Fuzztones,
Fatback Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
U.S. Maple,
Peter & Gordon,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
Second Layer,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
The Beau Brummels,
8 Eyed Spy,
OOIOO,
Cheater Slicks,
Connie Case,
Interpol,
Mark Hollis,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.