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 Kyrgyzstan and from Beijing.
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 Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brand Nubian to the rock 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Ossler,
Sam Rivers,
Altered Images,
Clear Light,
Black Bananas,
The Trojans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
Terry Callier,
The Velvet Underground,
Girls At Our Best!,
DJ Sneak,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alphaville,
the Association,
Ornette Coleman,
The Skatalites,
PIL,
Kaleidoscope,
Model 500,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
Tubeway Army,
Bizarre Inc.,
Moby Grape,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mummies,
John Holt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
Jawbox,
Sun City Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Music Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Talk Talk,
Infiniti,
Althea and Donna,
Rakim,
FM Einheit,
Jandek,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Durutti Column,
Gong,
Amazonics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
CMW,
Can,
Black Moon,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.