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 Vanuatu and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 American Breed to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
Gregory Isaacs,
PIL,
The Cure,
Tim Buckley,
Grey Daturas,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
The Searchers,
Althea and Donna,
Monolake,
Hot Snakes,
Ornette Coleman,
Negative Approach,
Rapeman,
the Slits,
Section 25,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispy Ambulance,
Unwound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Trojans,
The Fire Engines,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eric Copeland,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Womack,
Hardrive,
Arthur Verocai,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rakim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Wake,
David Bowie,
Peter and Kerry,
Davy DMX,
Donald Byrd,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Groovy Waters,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Bananas,
Lyres,
Sight & Sound,
Index,
L. Decosne,
New York Dolls,
The Vogues,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joey Negro,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
Adolescents,
Anakelly,
Popol Vuh,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.