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 Seychelles and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Con Funk Shun to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Golliwogs,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Symarip,
Barry Ungar,
Porter Ricks,
Blossom Toes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Mills,
The Litter,
Anakelly,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kenny Larkin,
Quantec,
Aswad,
LL Cool J,
The Gladiators,
ABBA,
Babytalk,
La Düsseldorf,
Ralphi Rosario,
Byron Stingily,
Lightning Bolt,
The Remains,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pantaleimon,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fear,
Eden Ahbez,
Mad Mike,
10cc,
Oneida,
Piero Umiliani,
Pierre Henry,
The Birthday Party,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boredoms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Whodini,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Axelrod,
Jacques Brel,
Sun City Girls,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Agitation Free,
Gong,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.