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 Malaysia and from Cairo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Monks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
Nick Fraelich,
Amazonics,
Anthony Braxton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ice-T,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lyres,
The Skatalites,
Whodini,
Make Up,
Morten Harket,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grey Daturas,
Alphaville,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
Rekid,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Human League,
The Doors,
Nas,
H. Thieme,
Crooked Eye,
Ossler,
Mars,
Thompson Twins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wally Richardson,
Little Man,
The Durutti Column,
Ponytail,
Suburban Knight,
Outsiders,
The Dead C,
Tim Buckley,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
K-Klass,
Unrelated Segments,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
Tom Boy,
Lightning Bolt,
Heaven 17,
ABBA,
Yaz,
Oblivians,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
Television,
The Smoke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.