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 Israel and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Blake Baxter to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Pulsallama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oneida,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amon Düül II,
Grauzone,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Joe Finger,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alphaville,
Cybotron,
Echospace,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Womack,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
B.T. Express,
Monks,
Whodini,
Ronnie Foster,
Interpol,
Fatback Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eve St. Jones,
Tomorrow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jawbox,
Bush Tetras,
The Cure,
U.S. Maple,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Slits,
The Walker Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Wolf Eyes,
Section 25,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Darondo,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Delon & Dalcan,
Make Up,
The Human League,
The Offenders,
Basic Channel,
Zero Boys,
Boredoms,
Fugazi,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
New York Dolls,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.