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 East Timor and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Glambeats Corp. to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Altered Images,
Swell Maps,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q and Not U,
Clear Light,
Aaron Thompson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The United States of America,
Flipper,
Shoche,
Arthur Verocai,
Kayak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
Country Teasers,
Spandau Ballet,
A Certain Ratio,
Second Layer,
Crash Course in Science,
DJ Style,
Bootsy Collins,
Prince Buster,
Dave Gahan,
Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
These Immortal Souls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Move,
the Germs,
Severed Heads,
Morten Harket,
The Gladiators,
Alton Ellis,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Fat Boys,
Little Man,
Gang of Four,
Bill Wells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Litter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Godley & Creme,
T. Rex,
Aswad,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brothers Johnson,
Drexciya,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Chris Corsano,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
KRS-One,
Boredoms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hashim,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.