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 Nicaragua and from Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lou Christie to the funk 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oneida,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Christie,
The Divine Comedy,
The New Christs,
The Evens,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marvin Gaye,
Iggy Pop,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shoche,
The Leaves,
Livin' Joy,
Absolute Body Control,
Ohio Players,
Alphaville,
Motorama,
Freddie Wadling,
Malaria!,
Organ,
Scion,
Radiohead,
This Heat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Banda Bassotti,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brothers Johnson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amazonics,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Happenings,
the Germs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
kango's stein massive,
T.S.O.L.,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Isaac Hayes,
Derrick Morgan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Infiniti,
Television,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
The Smiths,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
Jandek,
Tom Boy,
Theoretical Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Ronan,
Drexciya,
Kenny Larkin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Residents,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.