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 Djibouti and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Byron Stingily to the dance 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
The Fortunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Bill Near,
The Music Machine,
Country Teasers,
Black Sheep,
The Golliwogs,
John Foxx,
The Sound,
Boredoms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nils Olav,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kayak,
Barrington Levy,
Electric Prunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Half Japanese,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris & Cosey,
Josef K,
Joe Smooth,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Alison Limerick,
The Seeds,
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Graham Central Station,
Basic Channel,
Nirvana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T. Rex,
Camberwell Now,
Ronnie Foster,
Stereo Dub,
Babytalk,
Alton Ellis,
Television,
This Heat,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Angry Samoans,
Schoolly D,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spoonie Gee,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
D'Angelo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.