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 Norway and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Erykah Badu,
Blossom Toes,
Freddie Wadling,
Sexual Harrassment,
PIL,
Wire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lyres,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alton Ellis,
Junior Murvin,
The Selecter,
The Wake,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Anthony Braxton,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Average White Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
World's Most,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ice-T,
Aswad,
The Neon Judgement,
Fad Gadget,
Essential Logic,
The Red Krayola,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Skatalites,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
The Tremeloes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Flash Fearless,
Stockholm Monsters,
Audionom,
T.S.O.L.,
Leonard Cohen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Graham Central Station,
Connie Case,
The Divine Comedy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Donny Hathaway,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Wyatt,
Soulsonic Force,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pretty Things,
Whodini,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Second Layer,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.