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 Costa Rica and from Spokane.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Loose Ends to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Cybotron,
The Index,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funky Four + One,
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
Make Up,
Country Teasers,
Delta 5,
Steve Hackett,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Barracudas,
The Wake,
Liliput,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gories,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New York Dolls,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
Sugar Minott,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Leonard Cohen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Lakeside,
Roxy Music,
Alice Coltrane,
The Searchers,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Associates,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
UT,
Drexciya,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-102,
Magma,
Rotary Connection,
Visage,
The Pop Group,
Mantronix,
MDC,
Black Flag,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
Hashim,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
Andrew Hill,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Junior Murvin,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.