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 Serbia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
48th St. Collective,
Au Pairs,
Lucky Dragons,
Harmonia,
The Remains,
The Busters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Arcadia,
X-102,
Maurizio,
The Wake,
kango's stein massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ice-T,
Black Flag,
Robert Görl,
Yaz,
The Alarm Clocks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heaven 17,
The Kinks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sam Rivers,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare,
the Normal,
Brass Construction,
The Victims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jawbox,
Ossler,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monolake,
Ronan,
Inner City,
Jeff Mills,
Skarface,
Schoolly D,
Make Up,
Yellowson,
Peter and Kerry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Royal Trux,
Talk Talk,
Albert Ayler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Moby Grape,
Deepchord,
Alice Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Neil Young,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.