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 Bahamas and from Woodstock.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Shoche,
DJ Style,
Joyce Sims,
Sugar Minott,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mandrill,
Scion,
Donny Hathaway,
New Order,
Q and Not U,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oblivians,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare,
Shuggie Otis,
The Offenders,
Marine Girls,
Scrapy,
Spoonie Gee,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smoke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crooked Eye,
Rekid,
Lalo Schifrin,
Main Source,
Bush Tetras,
Radiohead,
Fat Boys,
Guru Guru,
Toni Rubio,
The Star Department,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Litter,
Nas,
The Monochrome Set,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Underground Resistance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Monks,
Pierre Henry,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
Loose Ends,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
Quadrant,
The Saints,
Steve Hackett,
Das Ding,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.