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 Philippines and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 JFA to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Andrew Hill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swell Maps,
Lungfish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Young Marble Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
Von Mondo,
Qualms,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy Collins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
The Golliwogs,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Music Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Alton Ellis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Byrd,
Boogie Down Productions,
Shuggie Otis,
Piero Umiliani,
Silicon Teens,
Ossler,
Jawbox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mars,
John Holt,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Cale,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boredoms,
The Move,
Yazoo,
Rakim,
Juan Atkins,
The Real Kids,
Fugazi,
Black Bananas,
CMW,
Marcia Griffiths,
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
Subhumans,
Buzzcocks,
The Smiths,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.