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 Belarus and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Black Bananas to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Neil Young,
Desert Stars,
Swans,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Bananas,
Sparks,
D'Angelo,
The Misunderstood,
FM Einheit,
DJ Style,
Silicon Teens,
The Leaves,
Lucky Dragons,
James White and The Blacks,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Shoche,
Lakeside,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
Pole,
Severed Heads,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Vainqueur,
The Offenders,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blossom Toes,
Danielle Patucci,
Curtis Mayfield,
Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Franke,
The Doors,
Lightning Bolt,
John Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Albert Ayler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bluetip,
A Certain Ratio,
These Immortal Souls,
E-Dancer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Arcadia,
Nirvana,
Big Daddy Kane,
Suburban Knight,
Eurythmics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
Half Japanese,
The Victims,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Reed,
Cheater Slicks,
Malaria!,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.