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 Slovenia and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Happenings to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Joe Finger,
Porter Ricks,
Amazonics,
Don Cherry,
Yusef Lateef,
The Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jerry's Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Goldenarms,
Sound Behaviour,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
John Holt,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slackers,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Sneak,
Sällskapet,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Con Funk Shun,
Crispy Ambulance,
Prince Buster,
Section 25,
Bang On A Can,
Von Mondo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fall,
Pylon,
Ludus,
Grey Daturas,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
Country Teasers,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lightning Bolt,
The Pop Group,
Marvin Gaye,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Starr,
Essential Logic,
Joy Division,
The Vogues,
Vainqueur,
Magazine,
The Litter,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
The Leaves,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.