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 Madagascar and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin 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 The Gun Club to the disco 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Fad Gadget,
Bang On A Can,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
KRS-One,
Ten City,
James White and The Blacks,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
AZ,
Fluxion,
Severed Heads,
Brand Nubian,
Heaven 17,
Can,
The American Breed,
Max Romeo,
The Golliwogs,
Shoche,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
In Retrospect,
Delta 5,
Brothers Johnson,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe,
Barrington Levy,
Unrelated Segments,
Spoonie Gee,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
Fugazi,
Kevin Saunderson,
Andrew Hill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Malaria!,
Crispy Ambulance,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Green,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
The Standells,
Delon & Dalcan,
Derrick May,
Alice Coltrane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Bananas,
the Germs,
Icehouse,
The Saints,
Davy DMX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pere Ubu,
The Motions,
The Pop Group,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Gang of Four,
Ponytail,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.