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 Kosovo and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jeru the Damaja to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Black Moon,
Eve St. Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Mars,
Rufus Thomas,
Radio Birdman,
Chris Corsano,
World's Most,
Make Up,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Eating Sloth,
Don Cherry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Glambeats Corp.,
R.M.O.,
Donny Hathaway,
Nico,
Black Pus,
Los Fastidios,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Khruangbin,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
In Retrospect,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Buckinghams,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
Popol Vuh,
Faraquet,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
Slave,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
Quantec,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Outsiders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Connie Case,
The Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
Skaos,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flash Fearless,
Ornette Coleman,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
Donald Byrd,
Yaz,
Warren Ellis,
Visage,
Robert Wyatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.