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 Romania and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Outsiders,
Grauzone,
Popol Vuh,
The Leaves,
Vladislav Delay,
Pantaleimon,
Avey Tare,
Masters at Work,
Warren Ellis,
The Beau Brummels,
Reagan Youth,
Wally Richardson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lower 48,
Robert Hood,
Brothers Johnson,
Hardrive,
Mo-Dettes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Prince Buster,
Shoche,
Lakeside,
K-Klass,
The Move,
the Association,
Trumans Water,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
Fat Boys,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
Make Up,
The Fire Engines,
Panda Bear,
The Mojo Men,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
Colin Newman,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slackers,
Hot Snakes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
Ossler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rapeman,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Half Japanese,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scan 7,
The Monks,
The Fall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
Anakelly,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.