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 Eritrea and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Lucky Dragons,
Oblivians,
Reagan Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Guru Guru,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
CMW,
Derrick May,
John Holt,
the Bar-Kays,
Monolake,
Aloha Tigers,
Absolute Body Control,
Neil Young,
Rapeman,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
Japan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mark Hollis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vainqueur,
U.S. Maple,
Can,
Suicide,
Shuggie Otis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Ten City,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Morten Harket,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Khruangbin,
Skaos,
The J.B.'s,
Arab on Radar,
Ossler,
The Motions,
Scientists,
Darondo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Evens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Music Machine,
Mars,
Von Mondo,
Stiv Bators,
Eric Copeland,
This Heat,
kango's stein massive,
Eve St. Jones,
Jandek,
X-101,
Eric Dolphy,
The Litter,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.