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 Nepal 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lower 48 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Harmonia,
Joy Division,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spoonie Gee,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cameo,
The United States of America,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anthony Braxton,
Clear Light,
Masters at Work,
Sam Rivers,
Severed Heads,
The Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
The Divine Comedy,
Nas,
Rites of Spring,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aloha Tigers,
EPMD,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Liliput,
Eve St. Jones,
The Victims,
Drexciya,
New Order,
The Young Rascals,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
ABC,
Charles Mingus,
Hardrive,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blues Magoos,
Fatback Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Aswad,
Barclay James Harvest,
Todd Rundgren,
David McCallum,
F. McDonald,
Anakelly,
Schoolly D,
Lalann,
Ice-T,
The Move,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moby Grape,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The J.B.'s,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Starr,
Joey Negro,
Inner City,
Soft Cell,
U.S. Maple,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.