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 Uzbekistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 Derrick May to the grime 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Dave Gahan,
B.T. Express,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Beau Brummels,
Dennis Brown,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sparks,
F. McDonald,
The Fall,
Lungfish,
Dual Sessions,
The Fuzztones,
Depeche Mode,
Wolf Eyes,
Livin' Joy,
The Gun Club,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spoonie Gee,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Index,
Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Gregory Isaacs,
Groovy Waters,
The New Christs,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
Brick,
Essential Logic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mission of Burma,
Con Funk Shun,
Make Up,
Roxette,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
T. Rex,
Massinfluence,
Moby Grape,
The J.B.'s,
Donald Byrd,
Tres Demented,
Goldenarms,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Green,
Funkadelic,
Carl Craig,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantaleimon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Little Man,
Organ,
Cheater Slicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.