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 Malawi and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 Gang of Four to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Ronnie Foster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacob Miller,
David Axelrod,
Scan 7,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Intrusion,
Sandy B,
Symarip,
the Swans,
Quando Quango,
The Barracudas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Supertramp,
U.S. Maple,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Moby Grape,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Bar-Kays,
Gong,
Brothers Johnson,
Rapeman,
Blancmange,
Zapp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blackbyrds,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
Magma,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Scrapy,
Porter Ricks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aswad,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cure,
Jesper Dahlback,
Isaac Hayes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Banda Bassotti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pulsallama,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Charles Mingus,
Au Pairs,
Ossler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mission of Burma,
World's Most,
Main Source,
Silicon Teens,
Ohio Players,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.