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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 the Human League to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scrapy,
Livin' Joy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soulsonic Force,
Soul II Soul,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
Main Source,
Mantronix,
Donny Hathaway,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonic Youth,
Dave Gahan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Can,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
Max Romeo,
Minutemen,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Dolphy,
Au Pairs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boz Scaggs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The New Christs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Deakin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Durutti Column,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shoche,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Banda Bassotti,
Flipper,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.